An Unlikely Hero
by plutospawn
Summary: This is my interpretation of the events of Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic KotOR. It deals with a female Revan.
1. The Smuggler

Chap. 1 Rian:

            I woke with a start.  I tried to straighten the bed sheets that were haphazardly twisted around my legs with a careless hand.  _Just another damn nightmare,_ it was the third one this week.  I brushed a damp lock of hair from my eyes and looked at the clock.  Ugh, it was way too early.  I curled my legs up into a fetal position and pulled the covers over me.  Two more hours, that was all I asked for.

            "Get up!"  

            The crew quarter was flooded with bright light.  It figures, the one night I stayed up playing pazaak and Trask decided to bug me early.  Maybe that meant some of the guys figured out that I had cheated.  I growled, but I was too tired to put any effort into it.  It sounded far too pathetic to be intimidating.

            "Damn it, Ulgo!"  I rolled over on the cot and covered my face with a pillow.  "Just give me two more hours and I'll relieve you, you impatient son of a kinrath kissing—"

            "The Endar Spire's under attack!" he interrupted.  "We've got to get out of here now before Sith troops are down our throats!"

            "Sith?"  Well, that just completely ruined my morning.  The very word "Sith" froze my entrails around my last meal.  And it was a good meal, too.  Suddenly I wasn't very tired anymore.  A voice giggling hysterically in the back of my head told me that I'd look back on this situation with humor.  If I managed to live through it.

            "It's alright, kid."  There were droids who spoke with more emotion than Trask Ulgo.  "I know you're no soldier.  I won't let anything happen to you, but we've got to move, quick."  

            The entire room shook as an enemy shell made contact with the Endar Spire.  He dug through the footlocker by my bed and tossed some clothes at me while I tried to force my brain to work.  Fight or flight?  The only thing I wanted to do at the moment was treat myself to the cheapest swill I could find in a shady looking cantina. 

            "Come on, kid."  He glanced anxiously at the door.  "I can't dress you too."  I shook myself back to reality and grabbed for my clothes.

            I jumped into the khaki fatigue pants and shot Ulgo the dirtiest glare I could muster.  Under better circumstances I would have carved the eyes from his head for watching me dress, or at least swindle him out of a few credits for my trouble, but I had more important things to worry about.  I threw a white tank top over my head and pulled a red pilots jacket on before turning to him.

            "Where's my blaster?"  

            He grinned.

            "Glad to see you're back with us."  He pressed the cold metal into my hand.

            "What's next, pal?" I forced a smirk to my lips.  He didn't need to know that at that moment I would have rather been a joy-girl who had lost control of her bodily functions in the middle of a performance.

            "I didn't think you were that dense, Vega."  Trask's scolding was half-hearted as he punched in the door code.  I consoled myself with the fact that he was just as terrified as I was.  "We find Bastila."

            "Bastila?"

            "Yes, Bastila.  Even Jedi need help."

            Great,I thought as I ran after Trask.  This is just what I need, to be cannon fodder between a Jedi and her enemies.

            We headed down the metallic hallways towards the bridge.  Repair droids lined the corridors, their toots frantic as they tried futilely to fix the beaten ship.  Occasionally Trask would stop at a body, but it was always too late.

            "Damn it!"  

            Blaster or no, Trask had given me enough warning to drop on all fours and cover my head.  There was no reason in the deepest depths of Korriban for me to pretend I was a hero.  Stunts like that rewarded people with smoking blaster holes in their foreheads.  I could hear blaster shots zip overhead.  A few seconds passed and I cautiously raised my head from my arms in time to watch Trask fry the last of the oncoming Sith.

            "Ajunta Pall's bones, girl!" he cried hoarsely, grabbing hold of my arm and dragging me to my feet.  "What the hell was that?  Are you trying to get killed?"

            "I'm not meant for this!"  My voice cracked.  Who did that Sithspawn think he was, talking to me like that when I had a fully charged blaster?  "I'm not a soldier, you said so yourself!  I smuggle things, and if I have to kill anyone I shoot them in the back you, you hairless Wookiee!"

            "I might not be able to save your worthless hide the next time you pull a stunt like that."  A pulsing vein appeared out of nowhere on Trask's forehead.  If I kept pushing him, I was certain he'd develop a nervous twitch by the end of the month.  "The next time you see something, don't think, just shoot!"

            So I did.  Poor Trask nearly jumped out of his skin until he realized that I was shooting at the Sith trooper _behind_ him and not _at_ him.  Wishful thinking doesn't keep a body alive.

            "Thanks." he grunted.  Moving on, he pointed to the end of the corridor.  "Can you slice into that door?  I'll watch your back."  

            I nodded.  I pulled out a security spike and inserted it into the jammed system.  My fingers moved instinctively all the while, I flooded my brain with soothing thoughts of Corellian brandy and house droids taking care of my every whim.

            Ulgo's comlink beeped, drowning out my curses as I fought with the battered computer system.  He made a shushing noise so I dropped my obscenities to inaudible grumblings.

            "This is Carth Onasi.  Bastila's made it off the Endar Spire.  All remaining crew to the escape pods now."

            "The Sith want Bastila alive."  Worry crept into Trask's voice.  "But once she's off the ship there's nothing stopping them from blasting the Endar Spire into galactic dust."

            Ulgo's constant moaning had started to wear on me.  I concentrated fully on the door and ignored him.  Finally, the 'click' I had been listening for happened.

            "Got it."  I grinned triumphantly as the door slid open.  The dark Jedi standing on the other side of the doorway grinned back.  Why me?...

            "Get to the escape pods!" Trask yelled, as he dove headlong into the Jedi.  I ran down the corridor, a scream strangling me.

            I fumbled with my stealth belt as I made my way towards the pods.  So I was behaving like a coward?  I just wasn't built with the valiant stupidity required of heroes.  Besides, cowards live to see another day.  I skulked down the broken corridors, careful to avoid the Sith at all cost.

            At the entrance to the escape pods, I finally stopped to breathe a sigh of relief.  Just through that door and I'd be fine.  I flicked my stealth belt off and punched the proper code into the door.  As the door glided open I was immediately faced with two blasters pointed between my eyes.

            "Who's there?" the man demanded, his brown eyes giving me the one over before dropping his guns.  He gave a relieved sigh.  "You made it just in time!  There's only one active escape pod left.  Come on, we can hide out on the planet below!"

            "Wait just a damn second!" I protested.  My eyes were fastened to his blasters.  It's usually not in one's best interest to blindly follow a man who just nearly blew your head off.  "Who are you and why should I trust you?"

            "I'm a soldier with the Republic, like you.  We're the last two crew members left on the Endar Spire."  He paused to dart an anxious glance towards the escape pod.  "Bastila's escape pod's already gone, so there's no reason for us to stick around here and get shot by the Sith.  Now come on—there'll be time for questions later!"

            I didn't have much choice.  I let him lead me to the escape pod.

            As he punched in the coordinates, I warily looked over the close quarters of our escape pod.  I only hoped that I didn't scream too loud once we were flung out into space.


	2. The Advisor

Carth:

            Why was I even here?  Decorated star-pilot of the Republic and the most important task I could find at the moment was "caffa duty."  I suppose the mission that the Endar Spire was on was important in its own right, but I hated feeling useless.  I could have been out doing what I do best, killing Sith, instead of being stuck in some covert operation that was so secretive that I wasn't even told what the hell was going on. 

            Since those Jedi got their paws on the Endar Spire everything had rapidly spiraled downward.  I was immediately demoted from being in charge of the men to an inept peon.  At least I got fancy title for my trouble: Advisor.  If the Jedi bothered to listen to advisors outside of their little council perhaps the Mandalorian Wars wouldn't have been as horrible as they were.

            Walking towards the cockpit, I took notice of that cute ensign, Meila I think her name was.  She waved enthusiastically and headed my way.  She seemed to think that I held some authority in scheduling work shifts on the ship and was eager to get on my good side because of it.  I wondered what would happen if she found out I was only a figurehead advisor, but at the same time I felt that even misguided banter was better than being left to my own thoughts. 

            She began with asking me about my day, like usual but didn't get very far.  That was when the first enemy blast hit the Endar Spire.  A wall panel blew and the poor kid was sent sprawling across the hallway.

            A winding gash marred her pretty face, but she was still alive.  I slung her over my shoulder and activated my personal communicator.

            "This is Carth Onasi.  All hands to the bridge!"  A logical command, but at the same time, futile.  Sith troopers and dark Jedi were swarming the ship as I spoke and there was no way in hell that the Republic was going to win that fight.

            The rest was mostly a blur.  When the adrenaline starts pumping through my veins, I rely on muscle memory to stay alive.  If I take the time to doubt or think over an action, that's usually when I end up hurt.

            Somewhere along the line I handed the injured ensign off to someone else, found Bastila Shan and escorted her to the escape pods.  Once safely by the escape pods I cracked into the Endar Spire's life support and tracked the whereabouts of the remaining crew.

            Regardless of escaping crew members pleading for me to join them, I kept my eyes locked on the moving red dots on the computer screen.  It was difficult to wrench my eyes from the screen because it seemed that by diverting my eyes for five seconds another dot would fizzle out.

            Eventually there was only one dot remaining.  Its movement was slow, but steady.  I chewed my lip until I tasted blood, but I'd be damned if I were to just abandon whoever it was out there.

            When the door opened, I overreacted.  I was concentrating so much on watching the dot, I didn't stop to realize that the dot was right outside my door.  My muscle memory took over and my blasters were immediately pointed at the intruder.  I'm just glad I stopped before I pulled the trigger.

            "Who are you?" I demanded.  Then I realized it was the last crew member.  It was so good to see that I was going to make it off that ship.  "You made it just in time!  There's only one active escape pod left.  Come on, we can hide out on the planet below!"

            She had been too shocked to move, I think.  I'll admit, throwing blasters in someone's face isn't the best way to make a good first impression.  Her dark violet eyes had been peeled open as wide as they would go, but as soon as she had time to blink her face had turned sour. 

            "Wait just a damn second!  Who are you and why should I trust you?" 

            I thought about dragging her into the escape pod, but she gave me such a feral look that I knew it would have been safer to take on ten kath hounds unarmed.  Enemy turbo lasers slammed into the Endar Spire.  She needed an answer, and quick.

            "I'm a soldier with the Republic, like you.  We're the last two crew members left on the Endar Spire."  She still didn't look convinced.  I sighed, and continued.  "Bastila's escape pod's already gone, so there's no reason for us to stick around here and get shot by the Sith.  Now come on—there'll be time for questions later!"

            She gave a suspicious nod, damn it, I'm supposed to be the suspicious one, but she followed me to the escape pod. 

            Once she was safely inside the cramped pod, I slid in beside her.  The closest planet was Taris, a Sith occupied hole, but it wasn't like we were being flooded with choices.  I punched in the coordinates and gave her my best reassuring smile.  She looked like she was going to be ill.


	3. Capture

Chap. 3 Bastila:  
My head was aching. I couldn't believe the Sith knew that I was on board the Endar Spire. It made me wonder if it had anything to do with the Council's last minute decision to include Rian Vega in the crew. How many lives were lost and for what? Rian was probably among the list of the dead, all for the better good, I suppose. I'm sure the Council would have known what to do next but they were on Dantooine.  
That left only me to save myself now. I couldn't just wait in the escape pod for the Sith, but I was completely drained. I had drawn heavily upon the Force during the Endar Spire's battle using my Battle Meditation.  
There were noises outside of the pod, so I snapped to attention. I'd rather die than let the Sith take me. My lightsaber was missing. It must have fallen from my belt during the crash. No lightsaber, and too exhausted to use the Force. A rather difficult predicament, I'd say.  
I pawed the seats and panels of the escape pod, searching for something, anything really. Bastila Shan would not be taken easily, I was determined.  
The Rodian who pried the pod's door open was given the brief opportunity to kiss the bottom of my boot. He was sent sprawling rather easily, but another thug quickly took his place.  
I disposed of them efficiently as well. I aimed for a Twi'lek's lekku. I've been told that they're very sensitive. But for every one that was downed there were three more to deal with.  
A Rodian wrapped his fingers around my wrist and a human grabbed a handful of my hair. There were too many.  
"You are making a grave mistake." I received a swift kick to the ribs and raucous laughter for my trouble. They certainly weren't Sith, but I knew my treatment in their hands would be no less gentle. 


	4. Crash Landing

Chap. 4  Carth:

            _Still breathing, always a good sign._  I should have been happy to be alive, but the disgust seemed to overwhelm any good feelings.  I had never seen an enemy aim at escape pods before.  There was so sense in gunning down unarmed men fleeing for their lives that I could see.  I guess that's why I'd never join the Sith.  A low groan escaped as I touched the forming goose egg above my left eye.  I silently continued my mental checklist.  Legs, two and still working.  Two working arms, one hell of a bruised rib and a lovely headache.

            "Hey sister, how're you feeling?" I asked, turning to my companion.Out cold_.  _I couldn't help but chuckle.  The poor girl was obviously a fresh recruit.  Her face had changed an entire rainbow of colors on our descent to the planet.  I wouldn't have been surprised if she had simply passed out from fear.

            "Well, we have to get out of here at any rate."  Gathering her into my arms, my hand immediately became wet and sticky.  "Oh damn it, no!"  

            Her short black hair was slicked with blood.  She looked like she was peacefully sleeping, and there was a part of me that wished that I didn't know any better.  There was a certain frailty about her.  I didn't want to touch her.  If I didn't, then my fears would never have to be realized.  But that was nonsense, because if I didn't and she were still alive, I'd just be feeding her to the Sith.

            There was a faint pulse.  _Don't you die on me.  _The thought came from nowhere and I quickly suppressed it.  I pulled her close, clutching her tightly to my chest so that I could feel her every shallow breath.  

            "I'm going to get you out of here." I told her.  I had the lurking impression that I spoke more for my sake than hers.

            I kicked the escape pod's door open and staggered into the night, the small broken body in my arms.


	5. Taris

Carth:

            I couldn't believe the luck I had.  Not only did I find an abandoned apartment to hide out in, but the building's janitor was kind enough to unlock the door for me.

            I guess I must have been one hell of a sight, though.  Wearing soiled clothes with a huge knot on my forehead and a bloodied woman in my arms.  The poor guy probably just didn't want us bleeding on his floors.

            As soon as I was through the door I set the girl down on the bed.  She didn't look very good.  The color had drained substantially from her face and she stopped drifting in and out of consciousness.  Her jaw was clenched tightly around words that refused to form past incomprehensible whimpers.

            The apartment was as well equipped as any second rate motel.  Fresh towels, and bed sheets and glasses for water.  In the top drawer of the bureau there was a sewing kit.  The place even came equipped with a workbench.  

            She had a nasty wound on the back of her head that was my first priority.  Blood droplets already browned the stark white pillowcase.  I couldn't find any bacta patches or kolto, so I'd have to tend to the wound the old fashioned way.

            I filled a glass with water and soaked a small towel.  She had rolled on her side, most likely to remove pressure from her injury, and I wasn't arguing.  I pulled a stool over to the side of the bed and sat down to work.

            As soon as I started to clean the gash, her arms shot up.  I had tried to be gentle, but I'm sure it hurt like hell regardless.  She moaned and slapped at me weakly.  Her skin was hot and clammy, feverish.  Batting her hands away, I pulled out the sewing kit.

            With one hand pinning her head down, I began to work.  The noises she started to make made me hate myself, but there wasn't much else I could do.  When I finished, she was exhausted and defeated.  I took another damp towel and placed it on her forehead.

            There wasn't anything that I could do after that.  I didn't want to scout Taris just yet, not if that meant risking coming back to a dead woman.  I could have tried to find a doctor, but at that point, it looked like all she needed was someone to keep her blanketed and make sure that there was always a fresh cloth on her forehead.

            So I sat there and waited.  Between her thrashing and brief lapses into consciousness, I entered her fingerprints into my datapad.  Rian Vega.  A strangely masculine name for such a pretty girl, but that wasn't the oddest thing about her record.  Age 26, a last minute addition to the crew specifically requested by Bastila Shan, but that was all the information available.  If I had looked my name up it would have had my military rank, how many years I had served, any honors I had received, any violations to the law I may have committed and so on.  Why wasn't I able to even access what planet she hailed from?  So, Rian Vega, age 26, I wondered, just who are you?


	6. Awake

Carth:

            It had been nearly two full days when she screamed.  I had finally felt confident enough in her health to scout the city and had brought back fever reducers.  She had taken them well enough, but they seemed to have virtually no effect.  That, I concluded, meant that she was never going to wake up.  I went into the bathroom to trim up my goatee when it happened.

            "Who are you?"  Rian was babbling again.  This would happen every so often, so I had learned to curb the hope that she would actually wake up.  I drew the razor up to my chin, concentrating on my stubble.

            "Get out of my head!"  She shrieked with such a bloodcurdling intensity I would have sworn that Malak himself had decided to stop by our apartment for some afternoon tea.  I nearly killed myself with the razor before I dashed into the main room.

            Rian was sitting upright in the bed.  Her almond shaped eyes were pushed as wide as they would open, their deep purple taking in her surroundings.  Her eyes met with mine and she defensively pushed herself to the end of the bed farthest from me.  I guess a man with shaving lather on half of his face and blood dripping down his chin isn't the friendliest of sights.

            I reached for a towel and tried to appear as harmless as I could.  Her eyes never left me, constantly sizing me up.  Wiping my face with the towel I put on a warm smile.

            "Good to see you up," I began.  She cocked her head, confused.  "instead of thrashing around in your sleep.  You must have been having one hell of a nightmare.  I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up."

            Rian's shoulders slumped.  She was slowly lowering her defenses.

            "I'm Carth, one of the Republic soldiers from the Endar Spire.  I was with you on the escape pod, do you remember?"

            "I had a strange dream…  Like a vision or something."  Her expression drooped.  There was something about her that looked almost naïve.  She pressed her knuckles into her temples.

            "I'm not surprised."  I picked up a damp cloth and walked over to the bed.  "You took a serious blow to the head.  You're probably having all kinds of weird dreams."  I wiped the sweat from her brow.  I kept talking hoping to keep her attention.  She looked really dazed and if she lost consciousness again it may be the last time.  "I wouldn't worry too much about it.  Well, you've been slipping in and out of consciousness for a few days now so I imagine you're pretty confused about things.  Try not to worry.  We're safe, at least for the moment.  We're in an abandoned apartment on the planet of Taris.  You were banged up pretty bad when our escape pod crashed, but luckily I wasn't seriously hurt.  I was able to drag you away from our crash site in all the confusion and I stumbled onto this apartment.  By the time the Sith arrived on the scene, we were long gone."

            She seemed thoughtful.  I had thrown quite a bit her way after all.

            "I was unconscious." she said slowly.  I nodded.  "But you were fine."

            "Yeah."

            "That sounds awfully strange to me."  She faced me with a raised eyebrow.

            "Well, that…"  I laughed nervously.  I had hoped this would never come up.  "As it turns out, when we crashed, you… you kind of broke my fall."

            "So you sat on me."

            "Sort of." 

            She laughed.  An alto, Rian had a low, silky chuckle.  It was nice to have someone else to interact with finally.  I was already sick of getting into long-winded arguments with myself.

            Her laugh was cut short.  She pulled her lips back into a grimace and sucked air in rapidly.  Rian brought her right hand up to explore the wound on the back of her head.  She gave me a knowing half smile.

            "I guess I owe you my life." she said.  "Thanks."

            "You don't have to thank me.  I've never abandoned anyone on a mission and I'm not about to start."  What kind of a monster did she think I was?  If our positions had been reversed, would she have tried to rescue me?  No, I wouldn't start debating the what-ifs, we had more important things to worry about.

            "Besides, I'm going to need your help.  Taris is under Sith control.  Their fleet is orbiting the planet.  They've declared martial law and they've imposed a planet-wide quarantine.  But I've been in worse spots.

            "I saw on your service records that you understand a remarkable number of alien languages.  That's pretty rare in a raw recruit, but it should come in handy while we're stranded on a foreign world. 

            "There's no way the Republic will be able to get anyone through the Sith blockade to help us.  If we're going to find Bastila and get off this planet we can't rely on anybody but ourselves."

            "Bastila?"  Rian's eyes looked ready to glaze over.  _Maybe I should get her a doctor.  _I've seen people crack their heads open before, but nothing to this extent.

            "She's the one from the Endar Spire, right?"

            I sighed.  "That smack to your head did more damage than I thought."  I decided that I would take her directly to a doctor.  "Bastila's a Jedi.  She was with the strike team that killed Darth Revan, Malak's Sith master.  Bastila is the key to the whole Republic war effort.  The Sith must have found out she was on the Endar Spire and set an ambush for us in this system. I believe Bastila was on one of the escape pods that crashed down here on Taris.  For the sake of the Republic war effort we have to try and find her."

            "How do you even know Bastila's still alive?"  That comment completely floundered the last bit of gusto I had.  I think I was beginning to like Rian Vega better when she was unconscious.

            "I don't."  I began to pace the room.  "But Bastila's young and she has a powerful command of the Force.  We survived the crash landing, so I'm willing to bet that she may have too."  I stopped in my tracks.

            "Besides, what's the alternative?  I mean, if she's dead, then no one can stop Malak and his Sith from wiping out the Republic.  I'd rather operate on the assumption that she survived."

            Rian nodded with a shy smile.  It should be a crime for a woman to smile like that.  She threw the blankets off and examined herself.  There was a large bruise on her forearm that was yellowing and countless numbers of cuts and scrapes that were slowly healing.  Rian seemed more agitated with the abuse that her clothing had sustained than her own personal injuries.

            "So what do you suggest we do next?" she asked.  She pulled the tattered red jacket from her shoulders and tossed it to the floor.

            "Bastila's going to need our help." 

            She hopped from the bed and started rummaging through my things in the bureau.  Rian amazed me in how resilient she was.

            "Many of Darth Malak's followers can use the dark side of the Force and the Sith have already killed more than their share of Jedi in this war… that's mine." 

            She had found my star pilots jacket and was ready to wear it.  I tried to take it from her, but she faced me with a snarl.

            "Do you think I'd look inconspicuous walking around Taris like this?"  Rian's tank top was stained with sweat and blood.  She had a point, but if anything happened to that jacket…  I gave up.

            "Nobody will be looking for a couple common soldiers like us." I explained.  "And if we're being careful we can move about the planet without attracting notice, a luxury Bastila won't have.  She's going to have half the Sith fleet looking for her.  They know how important she is to the war effort.  The whole planet is under quarantine.  No ships can land or take off.  So if Bastila's going to escape Taris, she's going to need our help.  And we'll probably need hers."

            Rian didn't need to know that we were completely helpless without Bastila.

            "Any idea where we should start looking for Bastila?"

            She was quick and I admired that.  Very business-like.

            "While you were out I did some scouting around.  There are reports of a couple escape pods crashing down in the Undercity.  That's probably a good place to start.  But the Undercity is a dangerous place.  We don't want to go unprepared.  It won't do Bastila any good if we get ourselves killed."

            Rian nodded.  "The sooner we start looking for Bastila, the sooner we find her.  Let's go."

            "Good idea."  I grinned and collected my blasters from the workbench. 

            "Is there a decent place to eat in this stink-hole?"  She gave a grimace as she jabbed a finger into her gut.  "I'm starving."

            I laughed, relieved, knowing that I wouldn't be stuck with a priss and nodded.  "Yeah, just remember to keep a low profile.  I've heard some grim stories about the Dark Jedi interrogation techniques.  They say the Force can do a terrible thing to a mind.  It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity."

            Rian gave me a weird look.  I wished I could read her better.  I can't say that I wasn't intrigued, but I've learned that enigmas can oftentimes be dangerous.


	7. Awake II

Rian:

            _I knew it had to have been a dream.  I had no body, I was merely a specter witnessing someone else's life.  I was aboard a ship, it had to be a ship.  Metal corridors, wall panels and navigational equipment all pointed towards that assumption.  I had seen that ship before, I knew it.  It had been in my nightmares for the past week.  _

_            A lone figure stood out, briefly glancing at the galaxy before him.  Black robes and hood shrouded him in mystery, who was he?  I knew him, just like the ship._

_            "Who are you?"  I would always call out to him when he appeared in my dream, though at this point, I knew it was useless.  I could only observe, never interact._

_            He turned, to face me, or at least that's always what it felt like.  The door to the bridge burst open and a group of Jedi rushed in.  They always rushed in.  Led by her._

_            The woman was preternaturally beautiful.  Leave it to me to concoct the most ravishingly beautiful woman in the world and plant her in this horrible dream.  Even without having a body I was jealous and angry at her for being there._

_            Milky white skin and silken braids the color of deep mahogany.  She wore simple garments but her presence illuminated the room.  Her eyes were cornflower blue and held no nonsense as she pointed a finger and made her demand.  At that moment I wished that I could be her._

_            "Who are you?"  It didn't work before, but I couldn't resist._

_            I was ignored again and I could feel myself becoming frantic.  The dream was rapidly coming to a close, I knew.  There would be a brief face off between the woman and the cloaked figure, then a blast of brilliant light.  I needed answers, I needed closure.  If I just let it end, it would come back again some other night._

_            "Get out of my head."  I would make them listen._

            "Get out of my head!"  

            I was awake and cold all over.  Beads of sweat trickled from my brow, knees and armpits.  I wish I knew where I was, everything seemed so fuzzy.  Maybe I was a prisoner.  That would explain why I hurt all over.

            I heard footsteps a room over.  I lurched back on the bed searching for a weapon, anything to defend myself with.  The only thing I could find was a blanket, so I pulled it tightly around my shoulders.

            A man hurried in looking concerned.  Half-dressed and covered with shaving lather, he certainly didn't look like an executioner.  He obviously wasn't the woman in my dreams, and I highly doubted that he was the robed figure.  So who was he?

            My skull was throbbing.  Maybe what I mistook for pain and torture was actually an all night drinking binge at a cantina.  If that was the case then he was… oh boy, he really didn't look like my type…

            The man wiped the lather from his face and made his way slowly towards the bed.  If that lumbering bantha thought there was going to be a round two he was going to be in for a rude awakening.  I was sober now.

            I really did need to curb my drinking.  When I had been self-employed it wasn't such a big deal.  Now that the Republic had their claws in me, however, I was pretty sure that they'd be more than a bit peeved to have me vanish on accounts of one too many Bomcalanuirian vodkas. 

            "Good to see you up, instead of thrashing around in your sleep."  

            What the hell was he talking about?  He kept edging closer and it made me feel really uncomfortable.

            "You must have been having one hell of a nightmare.  I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up."

            From the way he moved I decided that the cantina scenario was out.  The dried blood on my tank top was another hint.  I usually don't get that wild the first time around.  I loosened my grip on the blanket, relieved.  There wasn't any need to pretend that I remembered him and engage in awkward conversation until I could manage to piece the affair together.

            "I'm Carth," he continued.  "one of the Republic soldiers from the Endar Spire.  I was with you on the escape pod, do you remember?"

            "I had a strange dream.  Like a vision or something." I muttered.  Now why did I let that slip?  I was a professional, not some goggle-eyed adolescent in a go-go bar.

            My head was killing me.  I really could have gone for a mug of caffa but he was too busy staring at me idiotically.  I started to massage the pain from my temples.

            "I'm not surprised."  He sat on the bed next to me, a cloth in his hand.  "You took a serious blow to the head.  You're probably having all kinds of strange dreams."

            Carth started to dab at my forehead with the damp cloth.  Did I really look that pathetic?  I would have stopped him, but I was too tired.  It did feel good, sort of, not that I would ever admit it.

            "I wouldn't worry too much about it." 

            Oh you wouldn't, would you?  I thought, agitated.  Of course not, I was the one cross-eyed and stupid for the past however long while he got to be my baby-sitter.  What was going on?  I couldn't even remember my own name clearly.  It started with an "R", I was pretty sure of that.  It was a start, right?

            "Well, you've been slipping in and out of consciousness for a few days now so I imagine you're pretty confused about things.  Try not to worry."

            Carth had a nice voice.  Reassuring and fatherly.  It made me realize how much I disliked him.  

            "We're safe, at least for the moment.  We're in an abandoned apartment on the planet of Taris.  You were banged up pretty bad when our escape pod crashed, but luckily I wasn't seriously hurt.  I was able to drag you away from our crash site in all the confusion and I stumbled onto this apartment.  By the time the Sith arrived on the scene, we were long gone."

            How stupid did I look?  I couldn't believe what I was hearing.  How could one person walk away from a crash in a pitifully cramped escape pod completely unscathed while the other was brained?  It simply could not be true.  

            "I was unconscious." 

            Carth nodded.  I had to control myself, speak slowly.  That way I could gauge "Mr. Hero's" reaction.  

            "But you were fine."

            "Yeah."  

            I wouldn't lose my temper.  Not yet.  "That sounds awfully strange to me."  

            He turned pink around the ears.

            "Well, that…"  Carth was obviously embarrassed.  The scoundrel instincts kicked in.  The big oaf was a softy and a perfect mark. How the hell was he capable of saving me?  

            "As it turns out, when we crashed, you… you kind of broke my fall."

            "So you sat on me."  

            "Sort of."

            No wonder I was zonked out for a couple of days.  He had at least five inches on me and probably fifty pounds or more.

            I had to laugh.  The knight in shining armor squishes the damsel into a smear on the side of an escape pod and then rescues her.  What a laser brain.  And what a killer headache!

            I brought my hand up gingerly to inspect the damage.  Tender flesh was pulled together with stitches.  I shuddered.  I couldn't shake wondering if I had received any anesthetic before being sewn up.  I guess I was thankful that the scar would be hidden by my hair at any rate.

            "I guess I owe you my life.  Thanks."  If I had long lashes I would have fluttered them at him.  Thank goodness, I didn't have long lashes.

            "You don't have to thank me."

            Carth instantly turned serious.  I must have struck a nerve.

            "I've never abandoned anyone on a mission and I'm not about to start now.  Besides, I'm going to need your help.  Taris is under Sith control.  Their fleet is orbiting the planet.  They've declared martial law and they've imposed a planet-wide quarantine.  But I've been in worse spots."

            I highly doubted that.

            "I saw on your service records that you understand a remarkable number of alien languages.  That's pretty rare in a raw recruit, but it should come in handy while we're stranded on a foreign world.  

            "There's no way the Republic will be able to get anyone through the Sith blockade to help us.  If we're going to find Bastila and get off this planet we can't rely on anybody but ourselves."

            "Bastila?" I murmured.  A yellow lightsaber flashed through my mind.  "She's the one for the Endar Spire, right?"

            "That smack to your head did more damage than I thought."

            A frown spread across Carth's face.  He actually seemed genuinely concerned.

            "Bastila's a Jedi.  She was with the strike team that killed Darth Revan, Malak's Sith master.  Bastila is the key to the whole Republic war effort.  The Sith must have found out she was on the Endar Spire and set an ambush for us in this system.  I believe Bastila was on one of the escape pods that crashed down here on Taris.  For the sake of the Republic war effort, we have to try and find her."

            "How do you even know Bastila's still alive?" I asked.

            Carth's slack-jawed expression was all that I needed to see.  He was setting us up for a wild goose chase.

            "I don't."  

            He stood up from the bed and began pacing fiercely.  The poor guy seemed to be at his wits end.  He really needed to get out more.

            "But Bastila's young and she has a powerful command of the Force.  We survived the crash landing, so I'm willing to bet that she may have too."  He stopped abruptly.  "Besides, what's the alternative?  I mean, if she's dead, then no one can stop Malak and his Sith from wiping out the Republic and I'd rather operate on the assumption that she survived."

            I guess I had no choice.  I nodded, grumbling inaudible protests.

            I shoved the blanket aside and looked myself over.  My red pilots jacket was ruined.  The entire left shoulder was missing and the collar was stained with dried blood.  I had paid a small fortune for that jacket too.  Disgruntled, I slipped out of the destroyed piece of clothing and let it fall to the floor.  There were several cuts and bruises lining my body but they were all surface injuries.  That was my favorite jacket!

            "So what do you suggest we do next?"  I sighed. 

            Carth ran a hand over his goatee.  Why did he look so amused?

            "Bastila's going to need our help."  

            I climbed out of the bed and started digging through the bureau.  Carth raised an eyebrow at me when I pulled one of his jackets from a drawer.  An orangey-tan thing, not exactly a color I would have chosen, but it would have to do.

            "Many of Darth Malak's followers can use the dark side of the Force and the Sith have already killed more than their share of Jedi in this war… that's mine."  He tried to take his jacket from my hands, but I jerked away from him.

            "Do you think I'd look inconspicuous walking around Taris like this?"  I motioned to my white tank top with my free hand.  It was yellowed with sweat and sported dry splatters of blood.  Carth groaned but dropped his hands.

            "Nobody will be looking for a couple common soldiers like us." he continued, ignoring me.  "And if we're being careful we can move about the planet without attracting notice, a luxury Bastila won't have.  She's going to have half the Sith fleet looking for her.  They know how important she is to the war effort.  The whole planet is under quarantine.  No ships can land or take off.  So if Bastila's going to escape Taris, she's going to need our help.  And we'll probably need hers."

            Probably?  Maybe Carth needed to lick the boot straps of some Jedi to get where he needed, but not me.  Jedi are bad news.  

            "Any idea where we should start looking for Bastila?"  I'd let Carth feel like he was in charge for now.  It wouldn't have been wise to bruise his masculine ego too early on in the game.  Sulky flyboy pilots are a hassle.

            "While you were out I did some scouting around.  There are reports of a couple escape pods crashing down in the Undercity.  That's probably a good place to start.  But the Undercity is a dangerous place.  We don't want to go unprepared.  It won't do Bastila any good if we get ourselves killed." 

            "The sooner we start looking for Bastila, the sooner we find her.  Let's go."

            "Good idea."  He shot me a lopsided grin.  

            "Is there a decent place to eat in this stink-hole?"  My stomach gurgled for effect as I poked it.  "I'm starving."

            Carth chuckled then nodded.  "Yeah, just remember to keep a low profile.  I've heard some grim stories about the Dark Jedi interrogation techniques.  They say the Force can do a terrible thing to a mind.  It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity."

            Well that just put a damper on things, didn't it?  I guess Carth was determined to make sure that I didn't have any fun at all on Taris.  We'd see about that.


	8. Cantina Swill

Chap. 8 Rian:

            The clink of silverware was the only sound between us.  Carth had taken to scowling over a mug of Tarisian ale, but he always had at least one eye on me.  What did he expect me to do?  Morph into a Twi'lek and dance?  If he wanted to act like a weirdo, then that was his decision.

            I occupied myself with gorging my empty stomach to its full capacity.  I wasn't exactly certain just what it was that I ordered but it was pink, salty and edible.

            "Hey," I said between a gulp of water.  "Smile.  It is allowed, you know."

            "Hmmm?"  He shook his head.  "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

            "So I noticed.  Where were you just then?"

            "That food's not going to run away." he pointed at my plate.  "You can take your time."  I dropped my fork.  Damn him, I was blushing!  I guess I must have looked like a rabid Gamorrean.  I couldn't let him get away with that.

            "I just can't remember the last time I ate.  Did you even bother to feed me while I was out cold?" I retorted.

            "Yes!"  He sounded offended.  "I fed you every day.  I just didn't realize you had the appetite of a Wookiee."

            "You don't have to watch me eat if it grosses you out so much." I snorted, making a painful display of stuffing another forkful into my mouth.

            "What should I do then?"  He raised an eyebrow.  

            Now, conning a person is something of an art form.  I'd like to think of myself as fairly good, if not the best.  It's not simple thievery, a toddler toting a blaster carbine could rob somebody blind.  No, scamming someone takes skill, charisma.  It's all in the seduction.

            Once I had figured out that Carth was telling the truth about our situation, the gears had begun to crank in my skull.  Maybe he and his Republic needed this dame Bastila, but not me.  All I needed was a place to set up base and start smuggling again.  Taris, being an insignificant pit of a place on the outer rim was fairly ideal.  I'd help Carth with his little quest long enough to relieve him of any spare credits he might have.

            I set my fork down slowly.  "I'd like to know more about you, Carth."

            "Me?"  He looked like he was going to choke on his ale.  Carth glanced around stunned, obviously trying to gather his thoughts.  When he looked back and noticed that my eyes had never left him, he sighed.  "Well, I've been a star pilot for the Republic for years.  I've seen more than my share of wars… I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started.  But with all that I've never experienced anything like the slaughter these Sith animals can unleash.  Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless."

            Carth turned back to his ale.  He was evading my question and that burned me.  Trite facts about a person's life speak nothing of who they are.  He didn't trust me.  It was as if he was expecting me to swindle him, which I found utterly infuriating.  I didn't think that I was that easy to see through.

            I continued to eye him intently.  Carth was out of his mind if he thought I was going to let him off the hook that easily.  By the way his brown eyes were darting around, I could tell that I was making him nervous.  He'd have to talk soon, or run off screaming like a little girl.

            He laughed softly.  A clear sign of discomfort.

            "So," I broke the silence.  "what planet are you from?"

            Carth's eyes immediately traveled back to his mug.

            "My home world was one of the first planets to fall to Malak's fleet." he murmured.  As he continued his voice rose and I could feel electric anger rolling off of him in waves.  "The Sith bombed it into submission and there wasn't a damn thing our Republic forces could do to stop them."

            The cantina food must have been having an adverse reaction on my insides.  My throat felt tight and my voice was strained as I spoke.

            "I'm sorry, Carth.."

            "What do you need to be sorry for?" he snapped.

            "You're talking like it's your fault.  Like you failed somehow."

            "It shouldn't be my fault."  Carth emptied the mug down his gullet.  "I did everything I could… I followed my orders and did my duty.  That shouldn't mean I failed them.  I didn't!"

            I went far deeper than I intended.  Carth looked lost, and the expression on his face made me wary.  But there was a voice in the back of my head that compelled me to press just a little further.

            "Them?"  My voice was little more than a hoarse squeak.  "Do you mean the people of your home world?"

            "Yes.  No…"  He sighed.  "no, that's not what I mean.  I mean… I'm sorry.  I'm not making much sense, am I?"

            I tried to give an encouraging smile, but couldn't look at his face.  I had pushed him too far.

            "You probably mean well with your questions, I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past very much.  At all, actually."  Carth pushed his empty mug aside.  "I'm more used to taking action… keeping my mind focused on the business at hand.  So let's just do that.  If you have more questions, ask them later."

            Carth stood up and tossed some credits on the table.  He aimed a toothy grin in my direction.

            "That's the last time I pay for your meal, you bottomless pit."

            I shrugged sheepishly.  All I could think of was a well-known smugglers saying: It didn't matter how many gizka you decided you would take, only how many you were going to end up with.


	9. Trapped

Chap. 9 Bastila:

            The scent of potent alcohol wafted beneath my nose.  I stifled a moan as I twisted my head from the odor.  I was bound at the wrists and ankles, thick wire cutting into my skin.

            Had I been drugged?  My brain felt fuzzy, and I couldn't concentrate enough to touch the Force.  

            I opened my eyes to see a Twi'lek leering over me.  His breath had the reek of cheap cantina swill and his skin was the shade of green that I felt.

            He offered a vile grin as he pulled a dagger from his belt.  So this was how it was to end, was it?  I only hoped the Jedi council wouldn't hear of my last moments.  I wished to be remembered with dignity.

            The clod lowered the dagger to my bosom, I remember praying that he thrust the blade deep and quick.  With a flick of his wrist the Twi'lek cut a button from the front of my Republic uniform.  So that was his plan?  I gnawed on my lower lip, trying to flood my mind with soothing thoughts.

            The Twi'lek edged closer and I glared, determined to be defiant to the end.  That's when he screamed.  Just below his rib a glistening wet blade poked through his abdomen, pointing towards me.  He made a muffled gurgle as he collapsed to the ground.

            "What did I say about touching her, you oafs?" a man hissed, wrenching the blade free of the Twi'lek's corpse.

            He knelt beside me and cleaned his sword on the front of my uniform.  His black eyes were cold and calculating.  Merciless.  "What's your name, pet?"

            "That's none of your business." I exclaimed.  

            "I suppose your right,"  He shrugged.  "but your new master will like to know.  Of course, he might prefer to give you a name of his choice.  Maybe something like gyrating honey suckle pri—"

            "Rian Vega!"  I had to tell him something.  Anything but Bastila Shan was safe.  There was no way I could allow my capture to leak out, especially to the Sith.

            But why did I choose the name "Rian Vega"?  Of all the names I could have blurted out, it had to be that one.  The masters would say that it was the will of the Force.  Why wasn't the Force allowing me the strength to use my telekinesis?  Why was it wasting its time dredging up the name and memory of that, woman?

            It was a useless debate.  All I was trying to do was build anger at others who weren't even present to distract myself from that black eyed man and my situation.  I turned my attention the headpiece in his hands and I understood.

            I struggled against my bonds and screamed warnings to the man.  He laughed softly as he lifted the neural inhibitor towards my skull.


	10. The Kindness of Strangers

Rian:

            Strolling down the shimmering streets of Upper City Taris I was satisfied.  My belly had been filled and Carth was concentrating on other things suspicious enough to watch besides me, so despite the stink of the Tarisian noble's superiority a smug look had crept to my face.  Now all we had to do was find Bastila and call it a day.

            I stopped walking when a hand clasped around my wrist.  Carth motioned a finger to his lip with his free hand and nodded over to an alleyway.

            "Davik says you missed your last payment."  A scrawny old man was caught between two thugs.  One of the street toughs drilled a finger into the man's chest.

            "Davik doesn't like you missing payments."

            "Here—I've got fifty credits!  A down payment!"  The old man's eyes were rounded and frantic.  "That should buy me some time, right?"

            The first thug, and obvious leader, shook his head chuckling.  "Sorry, you're out of time.  Now it's all or nothing.  Davik can't have people not paying debts."

            "But I don't have that much!"  The man edged into a corner as the goons closed in on him.  "How can I give you credits I don't have?"

            The second thug piped in.  "That's too bad.  Davik's going to want to make an example of you.  You're coming with us!"

            The leader grabbed the man's arm and turned to walk away.  The man desperately tried to wrench his arm free.

            "No—Help!" the man cried.  "Somebody help!  They're going to kill me!"

            Carth looked at me and I tried to stifle a groan.  I thought he had said we needed to keep a low profile.

            "I know we have to be careful about drawing attention to ourselves," he whispered.  Carth looked like he was going to burst.  "but are we just going to let them drag this guy off?"

            "Hold on a second."  The leader pushed the old man to the ground and stared directly towards us.  "Looks like we've got ourselves a couple of witnesses here."

            "Davik doesn't like witnesses." the second one sneered.  I couldn't believe I was going to waste my time on these two.

            "How does it feel to be the helpless one?"  I shot the leader a feral grin as I unsheathed my two vibroblades.

            "I don't like your attitude.  I better teach you a lesson."  He thought he could scoff at me?  He was a dead man!

            I leapt into the fray immediately.  That way they wouldn't be given enough time to get a clear shot with a blaster.  The leader's crony went down easy, the poor fool never saw what hit him.  I hacked my blade across his eyes and he fell clawing at his wound.

            The leader put up a fight.  If it hadn't been for the second blade I carried, he would have cut me from throat to groin.  While my first blade was still connected to his subordinates face, he struck.  I managed to parry, but that was it.  He was using the strength of both his arms against my weak arm, so things weren't exactly in my favor.

            That's when he fell over.  I noticed a smoking hole in his back as he slumped face forward.  Carth gave me a triumphant wink.  I wondered what would happen if I slapped him.  

            I leaned my weight on the wall of the alleyway.  It must have been that cantina food, but I wasn't feeling so hot after that quick battle.  The world was rapidly becoming more dizzying and the only thing that kept me from heaving my insides up was my pride.

            The old man wrapped his gnarled hands around mine.  He looked on the verge of tears as he fiercely shook my fists.

            "Thank you—I owe you my life!  Those bounty hunters were going to take me away and kill me!"

            I just wanted to take a nap.  Maybe lie down right on the street.  Just a short little nap, then I'd be fine.

            "My wife warned me not to take a loan from Davik.  Now I can't pay him back.  It's not good to owe a crime lord money.  He'll just keep sending more bounty hunters after me until I'm dead!" 

            What did this man want from me?  The entire Upper City of Taris had decided to start spinning and this guy thought that he could unload all his problems onto my shoulders.  And Carth wasn't any better.  He stood in the background like a wary parent watching a naughty child.  I ground my teeth together.

            "Maybe I can help you." I offered.  I'd prove to Mr. "you have to rely on me but I'm going to be suspicious of you" that I was genuinely wonderful.

            "You already helped me by saving me from those bounty hunters."  The old man sighed and dropped my hands.  "So unless you have a spare 100 credits to give me so I can pay off Davik, there's nothing else you can do."

            "Here's 100 credits.  Take them."  I reached into the pockets of the orange jacket and fished out the proper amount.  The old man's jaw dropped.

            "You're going to give me 100 credits?" he stammered.  "Just like that? I—I don't know what to say.  Thank you!  Thank you!"

            He turned quickly running off, promises of paying Davik and loud "thank you"s in the air.  I turned to Carth and grinned smugly.

            "You're giving him 100 credits?"  He ran a hand over his goatee.  "Generous."

            One point to Rian Vega!  Carth was impressed.  I shoved off the wall, but stumbled.  Carth caught me mid-fall, the show-off.

            "Hey, easy there."  He tried standing me upright, but my legs had turned into the consistency of jelly.

            "It was that damn cantina food…" I grunted.  

            He laughed bitterly.  "I don't suppose the gaping hole in the back of your head has anything to do with it?"

            "That's not a very polite thing to say, you know?"

            "Alright, sister,"  He slung my left arm over his shoulders and wrapped his right arm around my waist for support.  "we're going to get you to a doctor."

            "Waste of time.  I'll be fine."  My protests were feeble at best.

            "I'm sure."  That lice-ridden bantha was laughing at me, wasn't he?

            I clenched my eyes shut, trying to force the pain and nausea from my brain.  I gave up trying to walk and eventually let Carth haul me through the streets of the Upper City.  If anyone looked twice in our direction Carth would complain loudly about how irresponsible I was when it came to Tarisian ale.

            Why was Carth doing this?  He had no right.  If he was smart he would have thrown me from the top of Taris' tallest skyscraper while I couldn't defend myself.  Instead, Carth was selflessly taking me to a hospital.  This didn't change anything.  As soon as an opportunity presented itself I would take his money and abandon him.

            When I opened my eyes, I was facing a stern looking gentleman.  He was shaking his head at me, clucking "tsks" from the back of his throat.  He raised a bushy white eyebrow over his dark eyes to give me a petulant look.  I smiled with a child-like glee despite his discerning stare.  He was nice even if he didn't want to admit it.

            "I see from your appearance that you are an off-worlder.  Still, you are welcome here.  I'll not have it said that Zelka Forn refused to help somebody just because they weren't citizens of Taris."

            See?  I knew he was nice.  Carth set me gently on a bench and I cradled my head with my knees.

            "Do you require healing or medical supplies?  I can treat almost any injury or ailment right here at the medical facility, except the Rakghoul disease of course."

            "The lady needs some treatment."  What was that sound in Carth's voice?  I couldn't tell.  My knees felt so knobby on my forehead.

            "I can see that."  Were they talking about me?  "Who tried to stitch her head like that?  A blind Rodian?"

            "Hey, hey, hey!" I protested, raising a hand.  "Carth rescued me!  He's a good kid."  Someone grabbed my hand.

            "Oh great," Carth muttered.  "I thought we got rid of that fever."

            "Are you telling me she's been like this for a while?" Zelka demanded.

            "I didn't want to move her."

            "We don't have time for this nonsense.  Hold her head still while I inject her with this."

            That stung.  But then I couldn't feel anything.  Maybe I didn't have a head anymore.  It wouldn't surprise me.

            My vision started fading out.  I guess it didn't matter too much, I mean, all that I was staring at was my knees.  But I wanted to be at least slightly coherent for this.  It was my disembodied head, after all.

            "Telos?  Why Telos?"  _Zelka Forn's facility was long gone.  In its place was a massive bridge.  That ship again._

_            "Telos made perfect sense."  Who was that?  His voice sent a burning flame spiraling down my spine, but I couldn't place it.  There was no way that I knew him, yet the familiarity was unsettling._

_            "Telos would make perfect sense to a battle-hungry barbarian, but strategically it's worthless."_

_            "We needed to test his loyalty."_

_            "Those Republic codes weren't proof enough?  You had to waste resources to demolish a pathetic rock as well?"_

_            The tension on the bridge made me feel faint.  I was slowly losing consciousness again._

"The Rakghoul disease is a terrible affliction that has plagued Taris for many generations."

            "Rakghoul disease?"  I tried to lift my head, but found that it was firmly pinned down.

            "Yes," Zelka said.  "you did ask about it, didn't you?"

            "Sure…"  My brain must have been leaking out of that hole in my head.

            "It is spread by the Rakghouls, horrible monsters that live in the Undercity below Taris' great skyscrapers.  Prolonged exposure to the Undercity breeds the disease and those infected will eventually mutate into Rakghouls themselves, becoming mindless beasts that feed on the flesh of others."

            "Is there no cure?"  A good thing to know if Carth wanted us parading around the Undercity.

            "There is no antidote for the disease, though I heard the Republic scientists at the military base here on Taris were close to perfecting a cure."  Zelka sighed.  "Then the Sith arrived.  They overran the military base and now they refuse to allow anyone access to the laboratories inside.  The Sith are keeping all the serum for the patrols they send into the Undercity.  If I could just get my hands on a sample of that serum the Rakghoul disease could be wiped from the face of Taris forever.  But I don't see how that's going to happen...  I'm all done with your head."

            I sat up and was struck with another wave of dizziness.  I leaned heavily on Carth's arm for support.  I bet that amused him.

            "Maybe I could find a way to get my hands on that serum for you." I offered.  It was the least I could do for him piecing me back together.

            "I don't see how anyone could get their hands on the serum."  Zelka scrubbed his hands fiercely over a sink.  Was that blood on his hands?  I really didn't want to know.

            "The military base is crawling with Sith guards.  Breaking in there would be a suicide mission."  He shook the excess droplets of water from his hands.  "I suppose the Sith patrols in the Undercity might have a sample of the serum on them, if they hadn't already used it because of a Rakghoul infection.  But I doubt a patrol would just hand the serum over."  Zelka shot me an unyielding expression.  "And nobody's stupid enough to attack one of the Sith patrols, even in the Undercity."

            "Don't worry, Zelka."  I waved away his warning with my right hand.  "I'll get that serum for you!"

            "Please don't say that!"  His pallor grayed a bit.  Zelka narrowed his dark eyes at me, and pointed a cautionary finger in my direction.  "If the Sith hear you they might think I'm suggesting you start attacking their patrols.  They could shut me down!  I only mentioned the serum because you asked.  I didn't actually expect anyone to get me the serum.  Now, is there anything else I can do for you?"

            I nodded, standing up.  "Do you know anything about the Republic escape pods that crashed in the Undercity?"

            It was worth a shot, right?  At any rate, it felt like pachinko balls were rolling around in my skull and it's always more bearable when someone else is confused as you are.

            "Republic escape pods?"  Zelka didn't appear as muddled as I had hoped, but he did seem panicky.  "Uh… no… why would you ask me that?  I don't know.  Those pods crashed in the Undercity.  I'm not involved in any way!"

            He was hiding something all right, and I'd bet my favorite vibroblade that it was juicy.  It was amazing what I could stumble across just by cracking my head open.

            "You seem awfully defensive about this."  I gave a nonchalant shrug.

            Zelka balled one hand into a fist and the color drained from his knuckles.  "I'm not defensive!  I just don't like being accused of knowing something about those Republic pods.  This is as bad as an interrogation by the Sith!"

            I could have pointed out that I hadn't accused him of anything, but I think his head would have exploded.  I tried to give Zelka my best imitation of a winning smile.  It was times like these that I wished I hadn't cut my hair so short.  It was kind of difficult to rely on feminine wiles when I had a scrawny body and a little boy's haircut to match.

            "Don't worry.  I'm not with the Sith.  I won't betray your secret if you tell me."

            Zelka glanced from me to Carth, then back again.  He sighed deeply, then shrugged.

            "Well, you don't look like you're with the Sith.  I guess… I guess I can tell you my secret.  Or rather, I can show you."  He nodded over to the back room of the facility.

            The door glided open under Zelka's touch revealing numerous bacta tanks.  Of the many, only two were unoccupied.  The rest were filled with men and women wearing tattered Republic uniforms.  I couldn't decide if a stunt like that took massive amounts of courage or stupidity, but I did feel safer now that I knew that people like Zelka Forn existed on Taris.

            "Since the space battle overhead people have been secretly bringing in these Republic soldiers who crash landed on the planet." Zelka explained.  "I had to take them in.  What choice did I have?

            "Their injuries are terrible, most won't survive.  But at least I can make their last days more comfortable.  And at least here they are hidden away from the Sith."

            "Well, for that you have my thanks.  It's good to know that at least some of these men ended up in compassionate hands."  Carth's voice startled me.  I had been so captivated with the soldiers in the tanks that I had forgotten he was there.  

            I recognized one of the men.  His shaggy brown hair floated around his head like some kind of macabre halo, obscuring his face, but I knew it was him.  The night before the Endar Spire was attacked, I had stayed up playing pazaak with him and a few others.  As the night had progressed, I had scammed him out of nearly everything but his undergarments.  

            "I hate to imagine what the Sith would do if they discovered these soldiers here." Zelka murmured.  "But since their initial questioning the Sith have not returned so it may be my fears are unfounded."

            "Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked.  The shaggy haired soldier kept my gaze.

            "I'm afraid there is nothing more anyone can do for these soldiers."  Zelka cleared his throat.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should return to the front in case anyone comes in needing medical attention."

            I nodded, letting numbness sweep over me.  I walked towards the soldier floating in the bacta tank.  My hand trailed across the glass as I searched for any glimmering of life.  What was his name again?  Tasgall, I think it was.  Yes, Tasgall Vex.

            "Tasgall," my voice cut through the quiet in the facility.  I didn't like how small I sounded.  "I cheated.  I just thought you should know."

            I reached a hand into the back pocket of my pants and grabbed my pazaak deck.  That deck was more like an extension of myself, I never went anywhere without it.  I kneeled down and set the pack of cards by the bacta tank.

            I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Carth.  He had a wistful smile on his face.

            "Hey, let's get going."  He held out a hand and I took it, letting him hoist me to my feet.

            "Okay."


	11. Doctor's Visit

Carth:

            "Are you telling me she's been like this for a while?" Zelka Forn demanded.  His dark eyes glared holes into me.  Now I was a monster.  Why didn't I just take Rian to a doctor like I had wanted to?

            "I didn't want to move her." I protested.

            "We don't have time for this nonsense.  Hold her head still while I inject her with this."

            Zelka pulled a syringe from a cabinet and gave it a critical eye as he flicked the needle with a finger.  I placed a hand on either side of Rian's head and held it firmly against her knees.  A muffled whimper escaped her as Zelka inserted the needle into her flesh.

            "Shush, you big baby." I whispered.

            Zelka began cutting all the stitches that I so painstakingly put in place out.  Once the wound was reopened, he scrubbed it fiercely with soap and water.

            "Telos?  Why Telos?"  Rian giggled, delirious.

            I jerked upright, with a start.  What did Rian know about Telos?  Could she have somehow figured out that it was my home planet?

            "What about Telos?" I asked. 

            "Worthless…pathetic rock…"  Rian's words fell into gibberish.  Damn it, if I had to shake answers out of her, I would.

            "She's barely conscious and babbling because of the anesthetic." Zelka explained, his fingers deftly applying kolto to her wound.

            The doctor's commentary was the least of my concerns.  Who was this woman?  Lean, wiry muscle pulsed beneath her golden brown flesh.  She wasn't soft, hell she had taken on two street thugs with the zeal of a Mandalorian.

            Rian Vega, age 26, specifically requested for transfer by Bastila Shan…

            "It looks like this was getting infected and she has a very high fever, if that's all then she should be okay."  Zelka kept his face down in his work.

            Why had Rian been transferred?  One person can't be so important in the scheme of things.  Well, Bastila Shan, sure, but not someone like Carth Onasi.  So what made Rian Vega important enough for Bastila to want by her side?  And what did she know about Telos?

            "She got clobbered in the head real hard." Zelka snorted.  "The back of the head, where that nasty gash is, is where the cerebellum among other things is located.  Fortunately, that part of the brain only controls motor skills, so the more important things should be fine.  But if you see her stumbling around or complaining of double vision, bring her back."

            I nodded absently.  There was something about Rian that made me feel so at ease, I didn't like it.  It was probably those eyes of hers.  Deep pools of violet a man could get ensnared by and drown in.  She had pulled that little trick on me in the cantina earlier.  I think after that encounter, I'd have the strength to shrug off a Sith interrogation.  But, I couldn't let my guard down, not on a strange planet, not for the Jedi, not for Rian Vega, not for myself.

            "I'm all done with your head." Zelka told Rian.  I released her head and she sat up abruptly.

            Rian swayed and I caught her with my arm.  She blinked and there was a certain vulnerability that played across her face.  I think that's what it was, that despite the hard bone, muscle and sinew that was Rian Vega, there was something inside that wasn't as tough as she would have liked.

            One of these days I would understand her.  I only hoped that I managed it without ending up with a poison-tipped dagger in my spine.


	12. Courting

Rian:

            "I can't believe that dirt bag!"  Carth was fuming.

            "You know," I began.  "Some species, like the Advozsec wouldn't view being called a 'dirt bag' as an insult."

            "But to try and convince us to steal some serum and sell it to a crime lord that's just… Advozsec?"

            "The Advozsec." I repeated.  Carth really needed to stop taking life so seriously.  Stress would make a body break before its time and I didn't want some babbling gray-haired old coot following me around.

            "They're short humanoids with enlarged craniums and big black eyes." I explained.  "They've got pointy ears and a horn in the middle of their foreheads.  Their planet, Riflor is a dense, ash-covered dump.  They seem to like it at any rate."

            Carth stopped stalking the streets of the Upper City north.  I noticed that his brows furrowed as he turned to me.

            "Riflor?"  He crossed his arms.  "I've been to a lot of planets during my military service, but I've never heard of Riflor.  Where is it?"

            "I—"  The words caught in my throat.  I could recall being in awe of the strange terrain and the night I was treated to my first dust bath.  But where was the planet located?  "I don't know."

            "You don't know?"  He laughed.  "Did you just make that up to distract me away from Gurney?"

            I shrugged.  I would have tried to laugh as well, but was afraid that it would just come out sounding forced and uneasy.

            "Forget about Gurney." I told him.  "Even if we find the Rakghoul serum, we don't have to take it to Zax."  

            It might be nice to take it to Zax if money happened to be tight, but I didn't think I would, if for no other reason than Gurney grated on my nerves.  Just knowing that, that parasitic core-slime would profit from my dealings with Davik Kang's bounty man, a finder's fee it was called, infuriated me.

            The one positive thing was that Zelka's aide had slipped the name 'Davik Kang.'  In his fervor to gain a few credits off of my trouble he acknowledged that Davik Kang was the reigning crime lord of Taris as well as a prominent member of the Exchange.  Not a particularly nice guy, but definitely a man who would know a way off of this rock.

            "But doesn't that make you mad?"  Carth wasn't just going to let this conversation fizzle out, was he?  "If the Exchange got their hands on that serum, only the rich would be able to afford the cure."

            I groaned.  "But we're not going to let that happen."  I planted my hands firmly on my hips and faced him squarely.  "So drop it."

            Carth raised his hands defensively.  "Okay."

            We proceeded in silence trekking through the streets.  When we reached the elevator to the Lower City, I bit my lip.  A Sith patrol stood staunchly in front of the elevator.  I flashed him a smile and tried to side-step him, but he was determined to bar my entry.

            "This elevator's off limits." he barked.  "Only Sith patrols and those with proper authorization are allowed into the Lower City.  It's obvious by the way you're dressed that you're not one of the Sith patrols, so unless you have the authorization papers, you must move along!"

            I couldn't help but wonder if all the Sith sounded that snide.  I could feel my nostrils twitch in agitation, but controlled the urge to stick my tongue out at the guard.  I had no intention of becoming a guest to the Sith facilities just because one guard's armor had been strapped on too tightly.

            I stalked away from the elevator with Carth on my heels.  He closed the distance between us and brought his head near enough to mine that I could feel his breath on my neck.  My hand itched to slap him, but I thought better of it.  We were far too close to that Sith guard to be causing a ruckus.

            "We're going to need some sort of disguise if we want to get past this guy." He whispered directly into my ear.  I tried to casually rub the hairs that were prickling out on the back of my neck down.  Damn him!

            "Well, let's head back to the cantina, then." I suggested.  I certainly could use a drink after all of this 'hero' nonsense.

            "Good idea." Carth agreed.  "Cantina's are always good spots for information."

            "Yeah,"  I struck an innocent face.  "you're also less resistant to my interrogation techniques when you're boozed up."

            The corners of his mouth crooked in a half-smile.  Carth gave me a curious look.  "Oh?"

            "Yeah."  I nodded.  "If you don't mind, I've got some more questions for you."

            The half-smile became complete.  Carth cocked his head to one side, letting a lock of chestnut colored hair slip over his forehead.  "I'm all ears, beautiful."

            Beautiful?  Well that blasted away any composure I had.  What kind of a sick joke was it to humiliate me with a false comment anyway?  I swallowed hard, trying to bury my fury, but it did little good.

            "Keep addressing me like that and you might lose an ear or two."  It came out as a low hiss and a small satisfied smile crept to my lips as I saw Carth take a couple steps backwards.

            He laughed nervously.  "A little bit touchy, are we?"  Carth's smile had been frozen to his face out of shock.  His eyes darted uncomfortably, desperately.  "Is there something else you'd prefer I'd call you?"

            He sounded sincere and it confused me.  He couldn't actually think that I was beautiful.  Maybe it was just the way he talked.  The slang of cocky Republic pilots throughout the galaxy or something.  I bet they all called unsuspecting women 'beautiful.'  That was it.

            I guess that meant that I had no reason to behave like a pit rancor during mating season.  So I overreacted.  If I managed to fix it then there'd be no problem.

            I cleared my throat.  "How about gorgeous?  I like that better."

            I would have found the expression on Carth's face hilarious if I hadn't been as flustered as he was.  When he finally managed to close his gaping jaw, he swept a careless hand through his hair.

            "I might consider it."  Why did he frustrate me so much?  "What are you going to call me in exchange?"

            Fine.  I could play his game.  I placed a finger to my pursed lips in mock thought.  "How about 'handsome thug'?"

            "I like the first part of that."  Carth grinned, looping a thumb around his belt.  "I'm a bit more partial to 'the most handsome pilot in the galaxy.'  What do you think?"

            I let my face sour as I raised a cynical eyebrow.  "Don't hold your breath."

            "Well then,"  Carth tried to maintain a serious expression.  It didn't fare very well.  "I guess 'gorgeous' will have to do until then, won't it?  Kidding aside, I bet you're not about to give up on those questions of yours.  Are they really necessary?"

            "Don't be such a child." I snapped.  "It's just a few questions."

            Carth snorted.  "Oh no, how can I resist a challenge to my manly pride, huh?  Ha!"  Once his laughter died down, he nodded.  "Fine, you've made your point.  Interrogate at will."

            "This isn't an interrogation.  I never said that."  He was really beginning to irritate me.

            "No, I was just joking, though you do seem to be full of questions.  It's rather refreshing, to be honest."

            I didn't like the way Carth was looking at me.  The mirth had drained from his face and he seemed to be analyzing me.

            "Let me ask you something first, though.  I've been going through the battle aboard the Endar Spire over and over in my head since we crashed.  Some things just don't add up for me.  Maybe you could tell me what happened… from your perspective."

            I was supposed to be the one asking the questions.  I didn't like where this conversation was heading and I wasn't about to cooperate.  I shrugged.  "Why ask me?  I don't see the point."

            "I'm just trying to figure it out.  I saw enough men lose their lives needlessly in the Mandalorian Wars.  It's… difficult to see that happening all over again."  

            Was Carth trying to intimidate me?  It wouldn't work.  It would make me very angry, though.

            "We lost the ship and a lot of good people… and for what?  On the hope that Jedi powers would save us somehow."  

            I was not in the mood to listen to Carth's rambling.  I had a good mind to tell him to find a brick wall to blather on to, but bit my lip instead.

            "Not that Bastila had much of an opportunity to act." he continued.  "We didn't choose that battle anyway.  It got forced on us.  Hell, I'm just surprised that any of us are alive to talk about it.  Come to think of it, it's more than a little surprising that you happen to be here, isn't it?  Just what is your position with the Republic fleet anyway?"

            I ground my teeth together looking at Carth for a moment.  I thought about feeding him some lie about being a soldier or something, but quickly dismissed it.  Carth was a military man, there'd be no way he'd buy my bluff.  I had to tell him the truth.

            "I used to be a smuggler, if you must know."  I spoke the words mechanically.  "I was recruited into the fleet for my knowledge."

            Carth's dark eyes widened at my admission, but he quickly recovered.  He nodded and started to pace the streets.

            "A smuggler?  I should have guessed."  Carth sped up his pace.  His military issue boots made a harsh click with every frantic step.  "Isn't it odd, however, that a smuggler who was added to the crew at the last minute just happens to be alive?"

            All that pacing was driving me nuts!  I stalked behind him and grabbed hold of his arm.  I spun Carth around to face me.

            "You'd rather I wasn't?" I demanded.

            Carth gave my hand digging into his arm a sidelong glance.  "Don't be ridiculous.  You've more than proved yourself since the crash… we wouldn't have made it this far without you but still…"

            "Are you implying that I had something to do with the crash?"  I balled my hands into fists.

            "No.  Well… maybe.  Don't get me wrong, it just seems odd that someone Bastila's party specifically requested to transfer aboard happened to survive."

            I couldn't believe the audacity of that guy.  I was so shocked I was almost speechless.  Almost.

            "Oh yeah, Carth, I must have been behind the crash." I scoffed, biting hard into every word.  "As a precaution I even had it arranged for my head to get splattered over one side of an escape pod to avoid suspicion.  That was really clever, wasn't it?"

            I noticed that I was waving my fists around in a threatening manner.  I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  I forced my hands to my sides and lowered my voice.

            "It doesn't make any difference.  Go ahead and be paranoid."

            "I'm not trying to be paranoid." Carth growled.  "It's just that I learned a long time ago that something which looks like a coincidence probably isn't.  Especially when the Jedi are involved.

            "The Jedi requested numerous things when they came on board… hell, they practically took over the ship as far as I could tell.  Considering your connection to Bastila and the Jedi… whether you know it or not… your presence here seems a little convenient."

            My connection to the Jedi?  Didn't the Republic screen their pilots for mental instability?  I couldn't even recall meeting Bastila once, but apparently the raving lunatic next to me was just that; a raving lunatic.  There was nothing that I could say to make him believe the truth.

            Carth sighed.  "I'm probably wrong and this is probably nothing, I know.  I learned a long time ago not to take things at face value, however.  And I hate surprises."

            Was that Carth's feeble attempt at an apology?  Or just a weak-minded excuse?

            "Shouldn't we be trying to work together?"  I crossed my arms to keep my hands from wrapping around Carth's neck.

            "I am working with you." he insisted.  "I'd be a fool not to.  I'd also be a fool not to expect the unexpected."

            "Are you always this suspicious?"  I dug my nails into the flesh of my arms.  I wouldn't hit him, I had more self-control than that.

            "Look…"  Carth's shoulders slumped as he exhaled a deep breath.  "It has nothing to do with you personally… I just don't trust anyone and I have my reasons."

            I raised an expectant eyebrow.  Carth shook his head and groaned.  Before I could open my mouth, he bowled over my unspoken question.

            "And no, I'm not going to discuss them.  So can we just keep our mind on more important things?"

            I spoke through clenched teeth.  "I consider this important."

            "Alright, alright."  Carth threw his hands up.  "You must be the most damned persistent woman I've ever met.  We'll talk about it… but later.  Right now I just want to get going."

            "Fine." I grumbled.  "Let's just get to the cantina."

            That burned me.  I had never met such a suspicious person in my entire life.  You know what?  I thought.  Forget scamming him.  Forget it.  I decided on the cold streets of Upper City that I would earn Carth Onasi's trust if it killed me.  I would earn it the old fashioned way and honor it.  That would show him. 

            Reaching the cantina, I flung its doors open.  I stormed in and headed towards the bar.  Alderaan was a classy place, known for art and wine, not for heavy booze, so I'd be willing to bet that Alderaanian whiskey would leave me green around the gills.

            "Where did you get those clothes—a trash compactor in the Lower City?  And where are those drinks we ordered?"  The owner of the voice was a high-society whelp.  I was in no mood to deal with this.

            "Sorry, I'm not your waiter." I stated curtly.  I began to make a beeline for the bar but she stopped me.

            "Why is the help here so incompetent?"  The snot-nosed twit began raving.  Great, I should have just ignored her and headed to the bar.  Then none of this would be happening.  

            "One word from Daddy and I could get you fired."  It was a pity the survival of the fittest did not apply in Upper City Taris.

            I rolled my eyes.  "Shut up, you spoiled brat!"

            The aristocrat looked completely flabbergasted.  Carth seemed a bit green as well.  I must have been on one hell of a winning streak that day.

            "How dare you speak to me like that!" she spluttered.  "Daddy's going to hear about this!"  I flashed a smile and waved as she stalked out.

            Carth looked disgruntled.  I shrugged and nodded to the bar.

            "Relax.  If you're lucky, I might buy you a drink."

            Carth grudgingly followed me.  I pulled a stool out and plopped onto it.  I motioned the bartender over and kicked a stool out for Carth.

            "What'll it be?"  The bartender swiped a towel along the bar for show.

            "I'll have an Antakarian Fire Dancer.  And my friend will have…"  I shot a sidelong glance at Carth.  It would serve him right if I ordered him some Fug ale.  I'd love to see the look on his face as he tried to down that Gamorrean sludge.  "He'll take a mug of Corellian ale."  

            The bartender set to work.  Carth sat down cautiously and raised an eyebrow.

            "Corellian ale?"

            "Yeah." I said.  "It's always a safe bet.  If you can't handle it, I'll ask the bartender to get you a Ruby Bliel instead."

            "A Ruby Bliel?"  Carth chuckled.  "What kind of a light weight do I look like?"

            "That remains to be seen." I stated, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance.

            The bartender set the drinks in front of us.  Carth immediately dove into his drink. I must have threatened his "man" ego with that Ruby Bliel comment.

            I zoned out.  I traced the lip of my glass with a lazy finger.  An Antakarian Fire Dancer would fry me from the inside out and I'd be a sore sight in the morning.  Maybe if I sipped it slowly instead of slugging it I'd be okay.  Probably not.

            "Hi there—I haven't seen you around before," I nearly dumped my drink down the front of my jacket.  Glancing up, I saw a dark haired man leaning up against the bar.  "of course they don't give us Sith officers from the military base much time off…"

            "You're from the military base?"  I pushed my drink aside.  This could be interesting.  "You don't look like one of the Sith."

            He laughed lightly.  "I'm off duty right now, so I'm not in uniform.  My name is Yun Genda junior officer first class with the Sith occupation force."

            I held my hand out for him to shake.  "Nice to meet you, Yun.  I'm Rian Vega."  Yun pulled my hand to his lips instead.  

            I heard a loud crash behind me.  Glancing over my shoulder I noticed that Carth had dropped his mug.  He appeared outraged and ready to scream.  I shot him a bored look and turned back to Yun.  Carth better have picked up on my warning.  If he messed up my work, I would skin him.

            "I'm actually surprised you're talking to me at all…"  Yun was pleased.  "Most of the people here on Taris can't stand us Sith.  It can make it a pretty lonely job."

            I smiled and let a nervous giggle loose.  "You're just doing your job, right?"  I leaned forward, giving Yun my full attention.  "I don't hold that against you…"

            "You know, it's like everyone on this backwater planet is in a permanent bad mood.  Don't they know they have to make the best of things?"

            I ran my tongue along my teeth.  "You've got a pretty positive attitude."

            "Exactly!"  Yun knocked on the top of the bar with a fist.  "It's all about attitude.  I didn't ask to be assigned to this backwater planet, but I try to make the best of it.  It's pretty easy to get depressed on an assignment like this, but we do what we can to keep our spirits up."

            I cocked my head to one side, feigning sympathy.  "It must be tough, being stationed in a hostile world." I cooed.

            "That's true."  Yun nodded.  "It's nice to meet someone who understands what I'm going through.  It's good to talk about this stuff—it gets pretty lonely up at the military base."  His black eyes wandered over my feminine appeal when he thought I wasn't paying attention.  "I've got to get going soon... I've got a shift at the base."  

            Yun sounded apologetic as his voice drifted off.  I pouted and turned back to my drink.

            "But some of us junior officers are having a party tonight to blow off some steam."

            I turned back to face him.  I raised an eyebrow to appear vaguely interested as I smoothed a lock of my black hair back into place.

            "I'd really like to see you again.  Why don't you drop by the party?  I'll write down the address on your datapad."  Yun was so eager he nearly tore the datapad from my hand.

            "Sounds good.  I'll be there."  I gave him one last smile before collecting my datapad.

            "Don't be late.  We're starting right after our shifts end.  Most of us won't even be going back to the base to lock up our uniforms.  I look forward to seeing you there."

            Yun strolled off with an air of confidence.  I couldn't wait for the fun to begin.

            "What the hell was that about?"  

            I had forgotten about my party pooper.  I turned around in my stool, deliberately slow to face Carth.  Under the dim cantina lights it was difficult to see, but I knew his face had to be a deep shade of red.

            "Are you jealous?"

            "Are you out of your mind?" he countered.  "Are you seriously considering heading to a party where you'll be completely surrounded by Sith?"

            I shrugged.  "What's the worst that could happen?"

            "The worst that could happen?"

            "Besides," I interrupted him.  I placed a hand over his to try to calm him.  "You said we needed a disguise to get into the Lower City, right?  What better disguise than an authentic Sith military uniform?"

            Carth clenched his jaw tightly.  "You've been planning this all along, haven't you?"

            "Not that exact outcome, no." I admitted.  "But something to that effect."

            "Well, I guess that means I'm coming with you then."

            "What?" I squawked.  "No, that wouldn't make sense."

            "It could be a trap." he argued.  "I won't let you go alone.

            I groaned.  "Fine.  Just be on your best behavior.  I think Yun might ask me to go steady.  Maybe give me his Sith academy pin or something."

            Carth rolled his eyes.  "Let's just go, okay?"

            I was in a good mood, so I left a sizable tip on the bar.  I hummed the tune of a scandalous Twi'leki folk song as I followed Carth to the door.  Carth ignored me.  Maybe he didn't know the words.

            Once we reached a deserted alleyway outside of the cantina we were greeted with a haughty laugh.  I whipped out my vibroblades and gave a lazy smile.    

            Two street toughs strode out blocking my way.  On their heels was—her?  Oh brother, that damn brat from earlier in the cantina.  I yawned in her direction.

            She gave me an icy smile.  The two thugs made a painstaking display of pulling out their weapons.

            "Maybe next time you'll think before addressing your betters." she sniffed.

            Despite the risk I ran by ignoring my oncoming attackers, I turned and spat at her feet.  

            Carth was business-like as always and his blaster fire erupted into the air before I had a chance to engage our attackers.  I ran towards the remaining thug and kicked high, knocking the blaster from his hand.  He fumbled for a dagger on his belt and lunged for my gut.

            I sidestepped and spun around to land a boot firmly in his backside, letting his own momentum work against him.  The thug crashed into the ground face-first, but quickly flipped over on his back to defend against any oncoming attack.  I waited.

            The thug never got up.  Carth ran to my side and pumped a blaster bolt into his chest.  I bet Carth did that just to ruin my fun.

            The high-society snot let out a low wail and ran as fast as her pricey nerf boots would let her.  I let out a victorious whoop as I sheathed my blades.

            "This isn't a game." Carth warned.

            "Sorry." I muttered.  I lowered my head and started to examine my shuffling feet.

            "Don't worry about it."

            I grinned.  "Did you see her face as she ran away?"

            "Come on," he groaned.  " we've got a party to get ready for."


	13. Party: Sith Style

Rian:

            I can't say that I really felt like the gem of the party.  While being flung to a planet in a burning escape pod, one usually isn't given enough time to pack a cocktail dress.  So I had to go as is.  I brushed my hair at any rate.

            Carth was sulking behind me.  He still wasn't happy about being anywhere near a group of Sith.  At least he complied with my plans, though.  To avoid suspicion for showing up with an uninvited person we decided that Carth would pretend to be my slave.  Carth as my slave, now that was an interesting thought.

            Yun was thrilled when I walked through the door.  He ran up to me and pressed a drink into my hand.

            "Hey, you made it!" he exclaimed.  "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show.  The party's in full swing—come on in!  Try this Tarisian ale—it's fantastic!  We should have conquered this planet ages ago!"

            "Careful, Yun."  A Sith woman walked up and gave me an evil glare.  Was she jealous of little old me?  "That ale's got quite the kick.  A couple more bottles and we'll all be passed out on the floor!"

            "Who cares?"  Yun took a healthy swig from a bottle for effect.  "We're off duty tomorrow—let's live a little!  Come on—drink up!"

            I grinned and took a gulp myself.  They weren't kidding about Tarisian ale being potent.  That stuff had enough juice to knock a rancor on its butt.

            "Carth," I waved a careless hand at him.  "make yourself useful and get me another drink."

            Carth muttered a reply and stalked towards the drink table.  Yun frowned as he looked over Carth.

            "You have an interesting slave." he said.

            I laughed and put a hand on his chest.  "I make sure that all my slaves are big and muscular, Yun." I explained.  "But it's all for show.  All my slaves are eunuchs."

            Carth's knuckles turned white around the drink he was carrying.  I rewarded him with a saccharin smile when he presented me with my drink.

            I don't know what Carth put in that glass, but it tasted wretched.  He smiled after witnessing my expression.  I shot Carth the most evil-looking smile I could muster.  Damn it, I had more important things to be worrying about than a vicious smiling competition with Carth!

            As the night progressed, Yun kept nuzzling closer.  Finally he faced me, a predatory look in his eyes as he stroked the inside of my elbow with a thumb.  I had expected as much, but fortunately he had also drunk as much as I had expected.  He leaned forward, wet, sloppy lips hungry for a mark.  I tilted my head to one side to avoid him.  The sudden movement proved too much for Yun and he stumbled towards the ground.

            The rest of the Sith party-goers weren't much better.  Some were dozing off soundly, their mouths open letting loud snorts and snores loose.  Others were worse off, passed out in puddles of vomit, but it all worked well for my purposes.  I began digging through the pockets of unconscious Sith.

            "What are you doing?" Carth demanded.  

            I groaned.  "Be a good slave and try to find some uniforms."

            "Yes master."

            "Hey, I like that."

            "Don't get used to it."

            Once I relieved all the Sith of their credits, I helped Carth search.  We found what we were looking for in a coat closet.  Tossed haphazardly aside, the white-silver uniforms were practically begging us to take them.  We found two that were approximately the correct sizes, shock of shocks my chest plate was too big, and gathered them into a sack.

            Along with the credits and uniforms, I tossed the last bottle of Tarisian ale in the sack.  Carth glowered, but said nothing.  Stealing from the Sith was for the better good, right?  Carth slung the sack over his shoulder and followed me out the door.

            Despite it being night, artificial light cast the Upper City in an ethereal glow.  The silver streets glinted of blue and green and my skin had been given an orangey hue because of it.  A little voice in the back of my head told me to wait all night until sunrise.  That way I would experience being veiled with a completely different spectrum of colors.

            I turned to Carth, but the words caught in my throat.  The blue streetlights had muddied his complexion as he walked towards our apartment.  His eyes were overcast and his mouth was set in a frown.  I wish I knew what he was thinking, but he didn't look like talking.  I gave him space on our walk home to deal with whatever was on his mind.


	14. Mind Game

Bastila:

            _Screaming.__  Screaming for Father, screaming for myself, screaming for the tingling sensation in my nonexistent limbs.  Screaming.  A child lost in the woods._

_            There is no emotion; there is peace.  Peace._

_            The word 'peace' reverberated throughout my skull.  What sound would that of a thought word be?  Who puts voice to thought?  Panic began to penetrate every sense that I had left intact.  I would have blinked if I still had the capability.  I must not lose control._

_            There is no passion; there is serenity.  Peace and serenity._

_            I would not be overcome._

_            I still had consciousness.  Think, Bastila.  I gingerly reached out with my mind and when I became confident that I would not be lost in the dark, began to grope blindly until I met with resistance.  Like five hardened knots, they severed my brain from my body._

_            Careful, the task at hand was not to bludgeon my way out.  Brute force would merely tighten the knots.  Just like a training exercise, that's all it had to be.  I could fall into a meditative trance, let the calming peace and serenity guide me.  I would find a space between the fibers of those knots and my consciousness would slip through to my limbs._

_            I could do this._


	15. Damsel in Distress

Rian:

            Sunlight trickled in from the small window in our apartment.  I stretched out in my bed as a yawn escaped my lips.  One day I'd get a good night's sleep.  The nightmares kept showing up every night.  Even though I had become accustomed to the reoccurring vivid images, I couldn't shake the fear and anxiety that accompanied them.

            Glancing to my right, I saw Carth curled up on the floor using a backpack as a make-shift pillow.  What a gentleman.  I had offered to make room for him on the bed but he declined.  It might have had to do with threatening to gut him if he so much as breathed on me wrong during the night, but it was only to maintain the professionalism that the offer required.    

            I ran a finger across my teeth and grimaced at the film that had gathered over the previous day.  With Carth soundly asleep I could jump into the shower in peace.  I slid out of the bed and sauntered towards the bathroom.

            I felt a million times better clean.  A year's worth of dirt and grime had been sloughed off in minutes and the skin revealed underneath was rosy from all the hot water.  It was a shame I had to put on filthy clothes afterwards.  

            I swiped a towel across the bathroom mirror and began finger-combing my hair.  I wondered what would happen if I tried to curl it?  It was probably for the best that I let it be.

            That's when I heard the sound.  It must have been coming from the other room.  It sounded like a muffled whimpering.  Was Carth crying?

            No.  I peered through the doorway and noted that he was still sleeping.  Where was that noise coming from?  I crept to the main room, following the sound.

            It wasn't from our apartment.  I pressed my ear against the wall and listened.  How could someone live in a place with walls as thin as these?

            It was a woman.  Sobbing to her heart's content, I wondered what she would say if she realized that she wasn't completely alone?

            Carth looked so peaceful sleeping, I wasn't about to disturb him over my curiosities.  I walked to the bed and pulled a blanket from it.  I knelt beside him and covered him with the soft textile.  If Carth could spend a few more minutes without his brows furrowed, then he should.  Besides, if he was awake, he might have disapproved of my adventuring.

            I tip-toed from our apartment and headed next door.  The door was locked, but the lock itself was outdated.  My fingers went to work, tweaking individual mechanisms until I heard a distinct hiss.  The door slid open to spite the useless lock.

            "Hello?" I called out as I stepped into the apartment.

            An attractive brunette had leaned against the wall and was exhausting herself with weeping.  Her head jerked upright at the intrusion and she glared at me.  Her eyes were red and puffy but they instantly dried for the unwanted company.

            "Who are you?" she demanded.  "What are you doing here?  You can't just come barging into someone's home!"

            I guess I should have thought of that.  But her lamenting antics were bugging me from my room. 

            "I'm sorry." I mumbled.  "I was just investigating the area."

            "That's no excuse."  She planted her hands on her hips firmly.  "You can't just go around barging into people's apartments because you're curious!  But at least you're more polite than that pig, Holdan."

            "Holdan?  Who's that?"  Oh brother!  See what I get for being nosy?  I skipped out on breakfast so I could listen to a weepy stranger's guy troubles.

            The woman sighed.  "Just one of Davik's men who can't keep his hands to himself.  But all he got for his trouble was a nasty scar from my vibroblade.  Too bad I'm still the one paying the price."

            "What do you mean?"  Maybe this would get interesting.

            The woman blinked and shook her head.  I guess the absurdity of someone breaking into her apartment to ask her questions about her personal life had finally dawned on her.

            "I… I don't want to talk about it." she stammered.  "I'm in enough trouble already.  Besides, I don't know if I can trust you."

            I crossed my arms.  "You can trust me.  Maybe I can help."

            She sighed.  "Well I suppose you seem like an alright sort."  She walked over and sat on the edge of her bed.  "When I cut Holdan it made him back off but it also embarrassed him in front of his friends.  Holdan's a spiteful little Hutt-slug.  He went and put out a bounty on my head for what I did!  That's why I'm hiding out here."

            I liked her.  It takes a lot of guts to pull a vibroblade on a member of a syndicate like the Exchange, regardless of the reason.

            "Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked.

            She shrugged.  "I doubt it.  Holdan is one of Davik's men.  When you work for the local crime lord the authorities tend to turn a blind eye.  I'm afraid this is between me and Holdan now."

            "Maybe I could speak to Holdan for you."  And grind his face into the pavement until he agrees to lift that bounty, I thought.

            "You could try, I guess."  A hopeful smile crept to her face.  "He usually hangs out at the cantina in the Lower City.  It probably won't do any good, Holdan is used to getting his own way.  That's one of the fringe benefits of being a goon for Davik.  Working for the local crime lord let's you get away with things.  Still, I appreciate the offer."

            I nodded.  "Who should I tell him sent me?"

            "Dia."

            "Okay."  

            I left Dia's apartment with a sense of purpose.  Walking back to my place I began to skip.  Carth was awake when I returned.

            He was topless and was searching the apartment frantically.  I reconsidered my first impression of him.  Carth was more muscular than I originally thought.  Not bad at all.

            When he spotted me walking through the door, Carth's concern quickly turned to anger.  He jabbed a finger into the air and glared in my direction.

            "Where were you?" he demanded.

            "I was scouting the area."  I shrugged.  I was going to have to come up with some better tactics when dealing with Carth.  Already, he could see through my innocent face.

            "I'll bet."  He snorted.  "And just what did you find?"

            "A damsel in distress, you know the classic tale."

            "Rian, I'm serious."

            "And I'm not?"  I walked over to the bureau and started digging through it.  "Her name's Dia.  I think I might be able to help her out once we hit the Lower City."

            I pulled a long sleeved t-shirt out of the drawer.  It was dark brown and matched his eyes.  I handed the shirt to Carth.

            "Put this on.  We can't have you walking around Taris half naked, you barbarian."

            Carth caught my raised eyebrow on his bare chest and blushed.  He slipped the shirt over his head quickly.  

            "You ready to be Sith?" he asked, smirking.

            I laughed.  "I bet I can out-Sith you."

            "That's nothing to brag about."  He grimaced.

            We put the Sith uniforms on in silence.  For a military man Carth seemed to have difficulty in how to strap the thing on.  I was dressed in a matter of minutes and had to help him tighten the side panels.  Who would have thought a smuggler would have been good at playing Sith?

            I tried to walk rigidly as we left the apartment complex.  Feet together, stomach sucked in, shoulders back, chin up, the ideal example of a Sith soldier.  We marched stiffly until we reached the elevator in the Upper City north.  No wonder the Sith are so snooty, I realized, the Tarisian citizens would split crowds in half, even dividing mother and child to avoid getting in a Sith patrol's way.

            At the elevator, I ignored the guard and stalked into the shaft.  Carth followed me, at least I hoped it was him, it was pretty hard to discern gender, let alone an exact identity in these uniforms.

            As the door slid shut, we began our descent to the Lower City.  I pulled the silver helmet off and tousled my hair with my free hand.  I grinned as I saw Carth struggling with his shin guard.

            "Need help out of that monkey suit?" I asked.  It was a shame he still had his helmet on, I would have loved to see the expression on his face.

            "How do Sith soldiers manage to see in these things?" he grumbled, motioning to the helmet.  I shrugged and pried his headpiece off.

            "Is that better?"

            "Yeah, thanks."

            By the time the elevator reached the Lower City we were stuffing the remaining pieces of Sith armor into Carth's backpack.

            Not possessing the same flawless exterior that the Upper City had, I felt at home in the Lower City.  Litter was strewn over the dimly lit streets and a large "V" had been painted on an alley wall with old blood.

            Little did we know that we were wandering into the middle of a gang war.  Two groups of unsavory looking men were facing off.  Shouts of Hidden Bek superiority were followed by curses from Black Vulkars.  Everything from calling their mothers bantha fodder to wishing them a night with a diseased joy-girl was said.  These guys certainly didn't pull their punches.

            Their little party ended up erupting in blaster fire.  A mere handful remained standing upright after the brief shoot-out.  The survivors glared at Carth and myself.  They tried to appear tough and menacing, but couldn't quite master the look of intimidation bleeding over their dead comrades.

            I chuckled to myself.  Carth shot me a warning frown, but it was too late.  The gangsters were fumbling over their wounds to grapple their weapons.  I gave an apologetic shrug.  I wrapped my hands around my vibroblades and prepared myself.  I was home.


	16. Memories

Carth:

            _Long honey colored hair cascading down to the small of her back.  Slender, supple limbs pink from spending days working beneath the sun.  Morgana._

_            Her hair had a scent that distinctly belonged to her.  A mix of orchid and fresh earth from all the time spent in her flower garden.  But her face, where was her face?_

_            She was always just out of my reach.  I'd run to her as fast as I could, but my legs felt like lead.  Screaming, begging to her as she faded into the distance._

_            Morgana always paused for a moment before completely dissipating.  In a voice so quiet carried by the wind she would whisper, "You never did cry for me, did you darling?"_

After the first year, I managed to stop from crying out when I woke from that dream.  After the third year, I was confident that the dream was past me.  Only into the fourth year, did I realize that the past could never be buried entirely.

            I instinctively reached for my datapad.  Always after the dream I would be struck with the insatiable desire to see Morgana's face.  Now it was more out of habit than anything else.  Three months before boarding the Endar Spire I had been careless and ended up damaging her file a morning after a dream, desperate to see her.  I still had her holo-vid uploaded into my datapad, with the feeble hope that someone would be able to repair it one day.

            There was a horrible crick in my neck.  I should have found an apartment with two beds.  I realized that the blanket from Rian's bed was covering me.  Rian was nowhere to be found.

            Water puddles covered the floor to the bathroom next to the 'fresher.  Slob.  Fever reducers from Zelka Forn's facility were left untouched on the bureau in the main room.  Reckless, irresponsible madwoman!  What possessed her to leave when we have work to do?

            When Rian finally sauntered in, I had already begun to tear the place apart looking for her.  She greeted me with a grin and tried to sidestep towards the footlocker containing her gear.  I stopped her with a finger stabbed in her direction.

            "Where were you?" 

            Rian shrugged.  "I was scouting the area."  She made her violet eyes widen, but they trailed away from my own.

            "I'll bet."  I wasn't buying it.  "And just what did you find?"

            "A damsel in distress, you know the classic tale."

            "Rian, I'm serious."

            "And I'm not?"  Rian casually walked towards the bureau and began rifling through it.  Her eyes on the drawer she stated matter-of-factly, "Her name's Dia.  I think I might be able to help her out once we hit the Lower City."

            Rian chose a long sleeved t-shirt.  I guess she wasn't content at just stealing my jacket.  She surprised me by handing the shirt to me.

            "Put this on.  We can't have you walking around Taris half naked, you barbarian."

            I realized that her eyes were glued to my naked chest.  Unblinking and hard, the way a kath hound sizes up its prey.  I pulled the shirt over me as fast as possible.  

            "You ready to be Sith?"  A wry grin played across my face.

            Rian laughed, deep and throaty.  "I bet I can out-Sith you."

            "That's nothing to brag about."  I retorted.  That woman was determined to be the death of me.


	17. The Lower City

Rian:

            "You just had to do that didn't you?"  Ever since waking up to him in that abandoned apartment, I think that Carth had been in a constant state of exasperation.

            "Look, I said I was sorry."  I groaned.  "Who would have thought that some half-dead nitwits would decide to attack us because of one laugh?"

            "That's just it."  Carth was pacing again.  "You don't think.  Are you trying to get us killed?"

            "No!"  If I had wanted to kill us, I would have placed a thermal detonator in his backpack, but Carth didn't look like he needed that sort of confirmation.  "I said I was sorry, what more do you want?"

            "I want you to use your brain a little."  He stopped his pacing and turned to face me.  "I know you banged your head up pretty bad, but I doubt you completely scrambled everything in there."

            "I don't know."  I sighed.  "I just felt so relaxed and at home down here, not like when we were in the Upper City."

            "Relaxed?" Carth exclaimed.  "What rock did you crawl out from?  What kind of a planet could you have been born on that would make this slummy Lower City feel like home?"

            Good question.  Where did I come from, exactly?  I began to flip through all my memories, searching for an answer.  Ryloth?  No, that was the Twi'leks' home world.  Dantooine didn't sound right, either.  I hadn't stepped on Corellia before I was seventeen so that was out too.  Telos, no that held other significance that I couldn't place.  A voice in the back of my head said Deralia.  

            Deralia?  Where was that?  I was flooded with images of blue-green lakes and lush vineyards.  _A safe place where mother will protect you.  _That was my home?

            "Deralia." I murmured.

            "Huh, I've never heard of it.  It was that bad?"

            "Deralia's a little known planet on the Outer Rim." I spoke mechanically.  The words felt so foreign as they rolled off my tongue.  "It's where I was born, but I didn't stay there for very long, so I have few memories of it."

            "Are you feeling alright?"  Carth's brows were in his signature furrow.  "You never took those fever reducers, did you?"

            I shook myself from the strange daze and forced a grin to my lips.  "I'd feel better once we reach this hovel's cantina.  I could use a drink."

            Carth groaned.  "How can you even mention booze after all that Tarisian ale you downed last night?"

            I shrugged.  "Isn't that the best cure for a hangover?"

            "Why don't you just tough it out instead?"

            "Why?  I always thought I was more pleasant drunk."

            "That's only because you can't remember your awful behavior." Carth retorted, dryly.

            "Okay, you've made your point."  I hugged myself.  "No booze.  I'll get aitha instead."

            Javyar's cantina wasn't nearly as classy as its Upper City counterpart, but it was a charming dump nonetheless.  The pazaak players were by the front doors as usual, in case one of them bet more than they could pay and had to dodge out quickly, and the make up of the place was a pale imitation of the one in Upper City.  That meant the bar would be in the center.

            I made a beeline for the bar with Carth directly on my heels.  I'd behave and get that protein drink so he'd have to stop giving me that wary look.

            When I ordered aitha, the bartender guffawed.  I gave him a smoldering glare and he shut his little Rodian mouth.  The aitha was piping hot, which was nice, but I wished it was sweeter and not so healthy tasting.

            "Go away."  I turned a sleepy eye from the bar to a table in the corner of the cantina.  A lone man was being hounded by three thugs.  Instead of being frightened, however, the man was irritated.

            "Hey, check this out."  I nudged Carth in his shoulder.

            "What?" Carth sounded gruff.  I guess sleeping on a rock hard floor was slowly chipping away at him.  He glanced at the table then raised an eyebrow in my direction.  "Are you planning something?  Haven't you killed enough gangsters already?"

            "One."  The man took a sip of his drink.  Those were thermal goggles over his eyes and I could see the glint of body armor beneath his cloak.  Those Black Vulkars really had no idea what they were getting into.

            "I bet you twenty credits this guy creams those three."  I flashed my teeth in a predatory manner as I grinned at Carth.

            "No way." Carth scoffed.  "The numbers obviously aren't in his favor, but look at those tattoos on his forearm.  A man doesn't earn those markings for being a pushover."

            Carth was smarter than his roguish good looks would deem.  The tattoo circling the man's arm proclaimed him a bounty hunter and a damn good one at that.

            "Two."  The man's face was devoid of any expression.

            "But look at him." I insisted.  "He's so tiny, it's pathetic.  Are you sure you don't want to bet twenty credits?"

            "Three."  The man tossed a flash grenade in the middle of the cantina.  My vision as well as everyone else's in the bar was fried.  A blaster was fired exactly three times.  When my sight slowly faded back, I noticed the three thugs crumpled dead on the floor.  The man was nowhere to be found.

            So, it was back to work.  There were Rodians and Twi'leks and Iotrans as well as humans in the cantina.  A melting pot of shady people.  I began to scan each individual in the place looking for a glimmering of intelligence.  That's when I caught a glimpse of a Wookiee.

            How could I miss him?  An eight foot tall lumbering carpet isn't exactly inconspicuous.  As awe inspiring as a Wookiee may appear crammed into a pitiful cantina, it was his companion that drew my attention.

            A diminutive Twi'lek girl, I could tell that she was of the Rutian lineage because of her powder blue coloring, not as rare as a Lethan Twi'lek but more exceptional than her green-skinned counterparts.  Despite being little more than a kid, she was brash and fiery.  Exactly the person that I had been searching for.

            "I told you to leave me alone—so give me some space, Bug-eye!"  Her hands were on her hips and she was staring murder at two Rodians.  "Your breath smells like bantha poo doo!"

            The kid had guts, facing two armed goons fearlessly.  I saw her lekku twitching fiercely and picked up on the fact that the girl had a vile mouth as well.

            "Little girl should not be in bar.  This no place for little girl." the Rodian spat in broken Huttese.  "If little girl smart, she run away home right now."

            "Who you calling a little girl, Chuba-face?" she demanded.

            I had to laugh.  Her lekku had begun flicking away with a mind of its own.  I don't think half the insults she hurled at the Rodian via her Tchun and Tchin could be translated out of Twi'leki but it was probably better that way.  Those obscenities were enough to make a Gamorrean blush.

            "Little girl needs lesson in manners!" the Rodian proclaimed.

            The petite Twi'lek raised a lazy finger to the air.  "Just a sec, boys."  She turned casually to the Wookiee at her side.  "Zaalbar… a little help here?  I need you to rip the legs off some insects."

            "Mission—I'm busy." the Wookiee moaned, disgruntled.  "They just brought my food."

            Mission's face turned a light shade of purple with frustration.  "Quit complaining…" she commanded.  "You can finish eating later.  Besides, you need the exercise so get over here."

            Zaalbar sighed, resigned, and stood next to her.  The Rodian swallowed hard at the Wookiee towering above him.

            "We no want trouble with Wookiee." the Rodian stammered, glancing at his buddy for support.  "Our problem with you, little girl!"

            Mission shrugged, and nodded towards Zaalbar.  "You got a problem with me, then you got a problem with Big Z." she stated.  "So unless you want to take on my furry friend, I suggest you greenies hop on out of here."

            "Little girl lucky she has big friend!"  The Rodian gave the best impression of a scowl that his small lipped, long snouted face would allow before scurrying off.

            My insides hurt by that time from laughing so hard.  I was doubled over, slapping a bar stool on the verge of hysterics.  Carth was eyeing me like I was delirious.  I think I was beginning to draw unwanted attention in the cantina.  I straightened up and tried to compose myself.  That Mission, she was something else.

            Once my laughter had died to controllable levels, I walked towards Mission and Zaalbar.  The Wookiee grunted a quick warning, but I ignored him.  I addressed Mission and introduced myself.

            "Say, I don't recognize you and I know pretty much everyone in the Lower City."  She took hold of my hand in a warm handshake.  "I guess that makes me and Big Z your official welcoming committee."

            The Wookiee sat back to his meal once he decided that the Twi'lek girl was no longer in danger.

            "Hey—we speak the same language!"  I had been too caught up watching her shifting lekku, that I hadn't realized that she was speaking Basic.  Languages had never posed a problem to me, so as long as I could comprehend another person's speech it didn't matter if they were speaking Twi'leki, Huttese, Shyriiwook or even Basic for that matter.  

            "It's not that strange."  Mission crossed her arms.  "Most aliens can speak Basic, they just prefer to use their own language.  But I grew up here on Taris so I just sort of got used to speaking the native tongue."

            "You showed a lot of guts dealing with those Vulkars, kid.  You got a name?" Carth cut in.  I winced at his use of the word "kid."  I doubted it would go over well with the street urchin.

            Mission raised an eyebrow over her deep cerulean eyes at Carth's careless comment, but brushed it aside.  "My name's Mission Vao and this big Wookiee is my best friend, Zaalbar.  I'd offer you a tour, but the streets down here aren't safe.  But if there's anything else you need…"

            Her lekku twitched and my jaw nearly dropped.  So she thought that, did she?  What a mouthy brat!  I knew I liked Mission Vao the moment I laid eyes on her.

            "How do a Wookiee and a Twi'lek street urchin end up as best friends?" I asked.  I'd start with casual conversation then work up to the big questions.  That way less credits would have to come out of my pockets.

            Mission shrugged.  "We just kind of fell in together.  It ain't easy on your own here in the Lower City—everyone's always looking to push you around."

            "So we noticed." Carth replied.  "Still you seem like an odd pair."

            "When I met up with Zaalbar it seemed like a good match."  Mission stroked one oiled lekku and gave a sly smile.  "I knew we could look out for each other.  With my street smarts and his muscle, we make a great team."

            "I've got a couple questions if you don't mind." I said.  

            Mission met me with a hard stare.  I sighed and started to shuffle through my pockets.  There was no way I'd get a free tidbit from this one.  Mission Vao was a cold professional.

            She gave me a pleasant grin as I placed some credits in her hand.

            "Well you came to the right person!"  Her voice oozed with honey.  "If you want info on Lower Taris I'm the one to talk to!  Davik, the Lower City gangs… I've even got the scoop on that bounty hunter, Calo Nord."

            I already knew enough to stay away from bounty hunters and I squeezed enough about Davik from Gurney.  Since I was paying for my information now, I had to pick carefully.

            "Tell me about the Lower City gangs."

            "There's only two gangs worth worrying about here: the Black Vulkars and the Hidden Beks.  Sometimes Zaalbar and I hang out at the Bek base."  Mission leaned against the bar.  "The Beks are led by Gadon Thek—he's a good guy.  Lost his sight in a swoop bike accident a few years ago, but even blind he's a great leader.  Not like that traitor, Brejik!"  Her eyes connected with mine and I could feel the hatred pour off of her.  "Before he took over the Vulkars he was a Hidden Bek.  Gadon considered that ungrateful space slug his adopted son."

            "Why did Brejik leave the Hidden Beks?" I asked.  I was going to get my money's worth out of Mission Vao.

            Mission pounded on the bar, eyeing me expectantly as the barkeep turned to us.  Instead of nodding like she expected, I ordered a drink for her.  She glowered when she realized it was only a Ruby Bliel, but her sour look was quickly replaced with her business face.

            "When Gadon went blind everyone thought he'd step down and appoint Brejik in his place."  Mission sipped the Ruby Bliel casually.  "But Gadon figured Brejik wasn't ready yet.  He wanted him to wait a few years.  But Brejik was too impatient."  Her upper lip curled up in a snarl and her lekku flicked, agitated.  "He left to join the Vulkars and ever since he's been waging a war to wipe Gadon and his Beks from the face of Taris!  This gang war in the Lower City is totally the Vulkar's fault.  They're the ones killing everything that moves out on the street.  It's like they've gone insane."

            I looked at Carth, hoping for some sort of input.  He just stood there, nodding, absorbing her words.  I couldn't make sense of that; I had thought Carth was the overtly opinionated one.

            "So, if I was looking for information on those downed Republic escape pods…"  I let my words trail off.  Mission was a smart kid, she understood the hazards lurking behind the simple question.

            "I'd say it was a waste of your time." she said.  Mission plucked the cocktail umbrella from her drink, placed it to her lips and sucking on one end, she continued.  "Of course, if you insisted it was important, I'd tell you to check with one of the street gangs.  They like to loot stuff like that."

            "I'll be going now."  I tossed a few extra credits her way out of gratitude.

            "You going?"  Mission shoved her drink aside.  "Yeah, this dive is pretty boring.  No action around here.  Come on, Big Z, let's go."

            "But I haven't finished eating!"  The Wookiee roared his disapproval.

            "Can't you think about something besides your stomach for five minutes?" Mission snapped.  "Come on—we'll go see if there's anything good to eat at the Bek base."  Mission strolled off with a sulky Wookiee following close behind.

            I laughed.  I could have sworn that my insides were going to burst from my incessant giggling.  Carth was looking at me like I had lost my mind.

            "That kid has such a mouth!" I exclaimed.

            "I didn't think she was that funny." Carth mumbled, his stare turning more peculiar.

            "Can you understand Twi'leki?" I managed between boisterous guffaws.  "She said that you were too old to have a pretty little love-slave like me—gramps!"  I exploded into another fit of cackling.

            Carth looked appalled.  


	18. Ale Illusions

Rian:

            "I can't wait to tell Dia!"  I stepped from the elevator to the Upper City streets bathed in the glow of streetlights.  I inhaled a deep breath of the night air and held it in my lungs until I thought they would pop.

            "I'm sure she'll be relieved."  Carth looked wistful, staring off into space.

            I was too exuberated to leave him to his melancholy self.  I ran to him and threw my hands on his shoulders and gave Carth a friendly shake.

            "But isn't it so unbelievable?" I exclaimed.  "All Holdan needed was a little sweet talking—I didn't even have to give him any credits!"

            Carth blinked, stunned.  I guess I had gone from keeping my hands pretty much to myself to shaking him like a rag doll, not exactly the normal progression of things.  I was frozen there, my hands on his shoulders.  I couldn't just drop my arms, no, that would just be too awkward and obvious.  But I couldn't stay attached to him like that forever.

            Carth chuckled softly.  "I don't suppose it had anything to do with Holdan watching you dance with that Twi'lek?"

            That damn lopsided smirk of his.  It was like he knew some hilarious secret that he was keeping from me.  It drove me crazy.

            "She needed a partner to audition with."  I flung my arms rigidly to my side.  "Besides… I had too much Tarisian ale."

            So I had a glass of Tarisian ale?  So I wasn't really drunk?  At least I hadn't thought so until he looked at me like that.  I felt color burning to my cheeks and I hated it.

            "Is that so?"  There was some mischievous glint to his eyes that I hadn't seen before.  "So what would a guy have to do to get you to repeat some of those moves you displayed in the cantina?"

            "And here I had assumed that you thought with your blasters." I retorted, dryly.

            Carth laughed.  "I had assumed that you were a pleasant person too, but obviously you proved me wrong."

            "Pleasant doesn't even begin to describe me."  I flicked a stray hair from my eyes, a sardonic expression on my face.  "Try stunning.  Amazing.  I'll even allow the most mind-bogglingly perfect creature to ever grace the galaxy."

            Carth had one dimple on the left side of his face only.  That's what made his smile so crooked, so nerve-wracking.  It was so strange that such a handsome face would be the sum of all the faults.  Thick knit brows framed those dark liquid eyes of his; the skin around his eyes would fold tightly into fine lines when he laughed and that damned lopsided dimple.  And how could I forget the deep creases in his forehead when he was deep in thought or the stubble around his goatee—didn't Carth ever hear of a thing called a razor?  All those obvious flaws, but it made him look so rugged, so…

            What the hell had gotten into me?  No, I was a professional.  Just considering the possibility that I could… no.  That wasn't just ridiculous and obscene it would have been way too sloppy on my part.

            Of course, when was the last time I had invited a man into my bed?  I couldn't remember.  I was sure that, that had to have been the Tarisian ale talking.  I decided then and there that I had to put a stop to my drinking.

            Carth was just standing there.  What was he thinking?  Silence.  Uncomfortable silence.  I cleared my throat.

            "Can I talk to you?"  My, that sounded pretty rushed, didn't it?  Maybe I should just head back to Zelka Forn's facility.  I was losing my mind.

            "Fair enough."  I didn't like how the shadows played over Carth's face.  It made it difficult to read his expression.  "What do you want to discuss?"

            "Well, we didn't finish our conversation last time."  I forced myself to look up at him.

            Carth sighed, shaking his head.  "I knew you wouldn't understand where I was coming from.  Let me try to explain."  He began walking towards our apartment.  I followed a few steps behind.  "You're probably one of the most skilled women I've ever met.  You've saved my butt more than once and I'm lucky you're here to help me, no question."

            Carth stopped walking suddenly to glance at me.  There was a "but" coming up, I was sure of it.

            "But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop watching you or being wary." he said.  "I'm just not built that way.  Period."

            "Not built that way?" I scoffed.  "That sounds like an excuse."

            "Maybe so."  Carth shrugged.  "But I've been betrayed before by people I…"  He shook his head violently and began walking again.  "Well, it won't happen again that's all."

            "Of course it won't happen if you never trust anyone!" I bellowed.

            I couldn't believe that!  And to think, five minutes ago I had a mind to… that man made my blood boil!  I swore to myself that I would never drink Tarisian ale ever again.  Not even a sip!  My behavior so far on Taris had been shoddy, unprofessional and inexcusable.

            "Look… I'm not trying to insult you." Carth hissed through clenched teeth.  His hands were up defensively.  Were we drawing a crowd?  I guess I had raised my voice.  Carth continued quietly.  "This is just the way I am, no need to take it personally."

            That did it.  "Don't tell me not to take it personally, you hairless Wookiee!"  I stabbed my finger into his chest and Carth took a couple steps backwards.

            Protocol droids had gathered around us and were bleating nervously.  Some Sith troopers were headed in our direction.  Was this the unwanted attention that Carth had mentioned when I first woke up in Taris?  He looked frantic.

            "Hairless Wookiee?"  Carth put his hand on my shoulder to calm me.  One glare in his direction and his hand immediately dropped.  He laughed anxiously.  "Alright, sister, just… just… just calm down before your head explodes."

            I growled.  "We'll see whose head explodes, you ungrateful monkey-lizard!"

            "Is that your idea of an insult?" he jeered.  "Come on, sister, take your best shot."

            I could feel the blood pulsing through my temples, heating my face.  "Gamorrean pig-man!" I roared.

            "Oh ouch." he snorted derisively.  "I think you hurt my man-feelings with that one."

            "Well, you had it coming." I muttered, suddenly aware of our audience.

            "I guess I did."  Carth raised an eyebrow.  His mouth was threatening to break into a grin.  "Feel better now?"

            "Maybe a little."  I grumbled.  Then I added for show, "You're sleeping on the floor tonight."

            "Good."  There was a devilish glint in Carth's eyes as his mouth cracked a swarthy smile.  Just what did he think was good?  "Then maybe we can talk reasonably about this."

            I crossed my arms firmly and gave him a hard stare.  The Sith troopers were slowly losing interest in our little spat.

            "All I've been trying to say is that this isn't personal." Carth said.  "If you were smart, you wouldn't trust anyone either… not me, not anyone.  Especially not yourself."

            Ah, so Carth didn't trust himself.  I would have expected this kind of behavior from an adolescent Hutt.  I ground my teeth.

            "I wouldn't want to live like that."

            "Not all of us have the luxury of a choice." Carth said bitterly.  "I'm conditioned this way, sorry."

            I turned from him rigidly and began stalking towards the apartment complex.  "I don't need someone around who doesn't trust me."

            "And I don't need all these questions." Carth shouted after me hoarsely.  "What I do need is to try and save the galaxy, if that's even possible.  Why is whether or not I trust you or anyone so damned important to you?  Why do you even care?"

            I shut the door to the apartment on his protests.  I continued to my apartment in a livid frenzy.  Carth had better be prepared to sleep in a gutter somewhere because I sure as hell wasn't going to let him in.


	19. Sewer Rats

Zaalbar:

            It was amazing that the price of this meat was below that of fresh vegetables.  It made me wonder fleetingly what the creature had been prior to lunch.  I took a bite and pushed those thoughts from my mind.

            Mission sat across from me in the Bek's kitchen.  She had already finished eating and was staring off into space, bored.  The way she picked at her meal, like a fickle tach, was not healthy for one so young.

            If I could bring her back to Kashyyyk, one of the den mothers would help raise Mission properly.  But those days were gone.  I would never step foot on that planet again.

            Mission sighed.  The child was a fidgety thing.  I finished my meal with a hasty gulp and turned to her.

            "Let's do something, Big Z." she said.  Immediately, I could see the sparks behind her large eyes.

            "What are you suggesting?" I asked warily.

            Mission grinned.  "Let's head to the Undercity.  Let's see if we can capture a Rakghoul."

            "How can you think of something so foolish?" I growled.

            Mission's smile only grew wider.  "Fine, stay here and sulk." she said.  "I'll just have to go by myself."

            Mission sauntered out of the kitchen.  I groaned.  I took one last look at my lunch plate before standing up.  I grudgingly tromped after her.

            Mission was waiting outside of the kitchen door.  She offered a casual wave at my scowl.  "I figured you'd want to tag along." she said.

            "If something should happen to you," I rumbled.  "because I was having more lunch instead of being with you, I wouldn't be able to eat a meal again."

            Mission patted my stomach.  "And we couldn't let that happen, could we, Big Z?" she laughed.

            I followed as closely behind as possible.  Mission's graceful form deftly wove in and out of alleyways, through streets, behind dumpsters, constantly snaking around corners.  I was too old for this nonsense.

            I lost track of her, she was too fast.  Mission desperately needed a den mother to lock her in a learning nursery until she was at least twenty.  She was far too mischievous and had no respect for the wroshyr trees.

            But Mission was my cub.  My honor family.  She was the only person to believe in me.  To view me as something other than a beast.  I would not desecrate that fragile faith.

            A slender blue hand glided out from a corner.  Laughter, like silver bells echoed the hand's beckoning.  Far too impish.

            "Come on, slow-poke!" she cried.

            I cautiously crept towards the alleyway.  Mission lunged at me, twining her fingers around the thick hair of my stomach.  She proceeded to drag me to a sewer opening.

            "Mission, it's wet down there!" I moaned.

            Mission crinkled her nose and giggled.  "Oh no!  I'm going to be stuck with wet Wookiee smell!"  Her eyes sparkled as she starting climbing the ladder into the sewer.

            I sighed, resigned and followed her.  There was a part of me that admired her madness, I think.

            In the sewers, Mission was jumping in puddles.  When she realized I was watching her, she stiffened.  Mission brought her foot down softly away from a puddle and glanced down the concrete corridor.

            "Hey, Big Z?"  Her small voice reverberated in the empty sewer.  "What happens if we run into any Rakghouls?"

            "Rakghouls are strong, but they're stricken with madness." I grunted.  "You have your wits; I expect you'll use them."

            "Yeah, I guess you're right."  Mission shrugged.  She ran a finger over some piping and grimaced at the slime that had collected.

            Mission scurried down into the catacombs of the sewer.  She disappeared from my sight again, but all I had to do was follow the laughter to find her.

            I diligently trailed her.  Such an energetic child, I wish I knew of a way to rein her in without crushing her admirable spirit.

            My heart leapt to my throat when I heard her scream.  If something had happened to her I would never forgive myself.  I ran after Mission, my toenails making frantic clicks on the concrete.

            Gamorreans.  Mission was on her knees, staring defiantly at the pig-men.  There were eight of them surrounding her, their snouts twitching in greedy anticipation.  Slavers.

            A Gamorrean reached a hand for her lekku and I roared.  Startled, he jerked back and glared at me.  I charged the Gamorreans, grabbing one and throwing him at his comrades. 

            Mission looked dazed, frozen, staring at me and her would-be captors.  I saw her small hands fumbling for a dagger in her belt.  I hoisted her to her feet by the collar of her vest.

            "Run!" I ordered.

            The girl looked like she was going to argue.  I snarled over her protests.  "Run!" I repeated.

            Mission gave a hesitant nod at the urgency in my voice and fled deep into the maze of sewer ways.

            One of the attackers turned to follow her.  I broke his face with my fist.  The Gamorrean squealed before his body hit the dank ground.  I knew the price for something as desired as an unsullied Twi'lek girl on the slave market.  They would not have her.

            A Gamorrean let loose a shrill call.  An alarm.  In the distance I heard feet tromping through the muck, coming closer.  So they were going to try to outnumber and swarm me?

            Four leapt towards me at once.  I lashed out.  An arm swung out there, a fist cracking down here; for every foot that missed its mark, an elbow would make up for it.

            Something stabbed my arm.  A dart.  I tore it from my triceps and roared.  It was drugged.  I could feel my arm already tingling with numbness.

            I needed to give Mission time to escape.  I felt the slavers' hands on me.  I turned abruptly and drove my teeth into a random forearm.  I tasted the putrid blood on my tongue as I tore a chunk of flesh off.  I spat it in another Gammorean's face.  I was becoming the beast they thought I was. 

            As my body became more and more sluggish, I became desperate.  I unsheathed my claws and struck.  _Madclaw__._I deserved the title.  A raging animal and nothing more.

            But Mission was free.  Such a purposeful, yet ignoble act.  Salt tears burned my eyes as I welcomed blackness.


	20. The Undercity

Rian:

            "So, do all Deralians have uncontrollable tempers?"  With those dark circles underneath his eyes, Carth fit in perfectly with the rest of the Lower City.

            "I don't know.  Are all star pilots as nerve-wracking and aggravating as you are?" I retorted.  I don't know what Carth's problem was.  I had let him into our apartment.  Eventually.  I had gotten sick of listening to him bang on the door.

            "It's a talent that only a few of us master." he said, wryly.  "But seriously, first you threaten Gadon Thek's bodyguard—"

            "She had it coming." I interrupted.

            "And how's that?" Carth demanded.  "The woman didn't say two words to you."

            "No, she said four."

            "Real cute," he snorted.  "I must be deaf now."

            "Not deaf.  Maybe blind." I said.  "Twi'leks don't always speak with their mouths."

            "But you do." he retorted.  "What did you say to Zaerdra anyway?  I'm not fluent in _Twi'leki_."

            "Can we drop it?"

            "No, I'm curious.  What did you say to her, Rian?"

            "I told her if she ever disrespected me like that again I'd strangle her with her own lekku." I grumbled.  "Okay?"

            Carth laughed.  He really was in need of a good razor.  "That's just great.  Gadon Thek is the one man on this god-forsaken planet that's willing to help us and you're going to strangle his bodyguard.  I won't even mention your badgering a Mandalorian of all people for questions."

            "Are you looking for another apology, Carth?"  I wondered how angry Carth would become if he discovered how amusing I thought he was when agitated.

            "I don't need an apology."  A loose lock of hair fell over his forehead.  Carth brushed it aside with an exasperated sigh.  "I need you to start using some common sense."

            I groaned.  I concentrated on walking towards the elevator.  Those authorization papers the Hidden Beks gave us better work, otherwise I'd slaughter the entire Bek base starting with Zaerdra and ending with Gadon.

            "Well, I'm going to say 'sorry' one more time." I said, eyeing the Sith patrol guarding the Undercity elevator.  "But this 'sorry' is going to be exponentially infinite, okay?  So when I next do something that you find unacceptable, just remember I've already said 'sorry' for it in advance."

            Carth laughed, mirthless.  "If only everything in life was that easy, sister."

            I presented the guard with the papers.  "Besides, what's your problem with Mandalorians?" I asked.  "So there was a war?  They lost."

            "Mandalorians destroyed a few planets on account of their insatiable bloodlust and I lost good friends because of it."

            "I guess that's a good reason to hold a grudge." I said.

            "No smart-mouthed reply?"  Carth sounded incredulous.

            "Not this time." I said.  "I like to keep you on your toes.  It's better when you're not suspecting it."

            The Sith guard glanced over the paperwork.  I held my breath.  He finally gave a curt nod and punched in the codes for the elevator.  I waited until Carth and I were safely in the elevator before releasing a sigh of relief.

            "How long do you think it's going to take to find Mission Vao?" Carth asked.  

            I shrugged.  "She's probably the only blue Twi'lek on Taris." I said.  "Even on Ryloth they're not very common."

            "What do you know about Ryloth?"  Carth was busy inspecting his blasters.

            I smirked.  "Ryloth is one of the most profitable stops on the Corellian Run.  I love that place."

            Carth's head jerked upright.  His nostrils twitched as he bared his teeth.  "You were involved with the slave trade?"

            My jaw dropped.  I could feel the heat surge to my face as I slammed my fist into the side of the elevator shaft.  "You're pretty hasty to jump to disgusting conclusions, pal." I hoarsely whispered.  

            My low menacing voice had a peculiar effect on Carth.  His pallor grayed and he appeared horrifically apologetic.

            "I… I'm sorry." he stammered.  "I didn't know Ryloth was involved in anything else.  What did you smuggle?"

            "Spices and blasters." I said tersely.

            "I would have assumed that liquor was your trade of expertise."  Carth grinned hesitantly.

            I groaned.  "I thought you were smarter than that, Onasi.  If I was consuming all the product, there'd be no profit.  Where's your business sense?"  A smile flickered across my lips, but vanished quickly.  Damn it, I was supposed to be angry.

            "Point taken."

            I could feel a bruise forming on my hand where I had punched the elevator.  I ignored it.  There was no way that I'd willingly let my guard down for Carth.

            We sunk into an awkward silence.  I began to whistle as the elevator door slid open.

            As soon as I had stepped into the Undercity, two filthy men sprang up.  Beggars.  I tossed them a five credit mark to avoid touching them as well as to get them to leave.

            "Credits, my brother!"  One screamed, ecstatic.

            I shared a look with Carth.  I'm sure my eyes were just as wide and dumbfounded as his.

            "Go on you two!  Get out of here!"  A woman came charging towards us, waving a fist.  The beggars clutched their new credits and scurried off.

            The woman stopped short a couple feet before us and lowered her head as if ashamed.  She wore soiled garments and her mousy brown hair hid her lovely dark eyes.  A gem hidden deep in the earth.  Freshly bathed I was no comparison to that dust bunny.  I clenched my jaw, but forced a smile.

            "I'm sorry about that…" she said softly.  "those two beggars give everyone in the village a bad name!  We aren't all like that, you know.  Most of us are good people."

            "I'm sure you are, miss." Carth said.  How come he was kind to her but would rather trust a Hutt with his life than me?  "It's just too bad your little welcoming committee is there to give people a bad first impression."

            "My name's Rian Vega." I cut in.  "Who are you?"

            "My name is Shaleena… you're from the Up-world, aren't you?  I've… I've never seen it.  I was born here in the Undercity.  Is it as nice as they say up there?"  The way Shaleena's eyes glittered with anticipation as she looked at me, made me stumble back a few steps.  She was filled with such admiration, such eager expectation.

            I glanced to Carth for help.  He nodded and offered a smile.  I sighed.

            "It's… nothing special." I mumbled.

            Shaleena's face fell, disappointed.  I shrugged helplessly.

            "Not to you, I suppose." she replied.  I felt uncomfortable at the sadness laced in her young voice.  "But you're probably used to its beauty by now.  I've never been to the surface, but sometimes I think I can see it in my dreams."  

            A melancholy smile crossed Shaleena's lips.  "The sun, the sky, the stars… it all sounds so… so wonderful.  Gendar, the leader of our village, tells me I should spend more time trying to improve things down here and less time dreaming about something I can never have.

            "Maybe he's right.  You probably think I'm a fool, having dreams of a place I've never even seen.  But when I was little, Rukil used to tell me stories of what it was like up there."

            "Rukil?  Who's that?" I asked.

            Shaleena's eyes lit up again.  "Rukil's the oldest man in the village.  The kids call him Rukil wrinkle-skin, but he's a kind old man." she explained.  "He used to tell me the greatest stories when I was a little girl.  I still like to listen to his tales about the Promised Land, even though I know they're just legends.  But it helps to make the Undercity seem less… less dark, somehow."

            "The Promised Land?  What's that?" I said.

            Shaleena brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and straightened her posture.  "It's… it's just a story to make little children smile." she whispered.  That wistful smile again.  "Rukil believes in it, though.  Sometimes I can almost believe it myself, but then I look around and I see the ugly truth."

            Shaleena sighed.  "I guess we have to make the best of what we have, though.  If you really want to know more about the Promised Land you should speak to Rukil."

            I nodded.  "I'll be going now."

            "Oh… okay."  Shaleena perked up.  "Well, if you ever need anything or if you just feel like talking, come back and see me.  I hardly ever get the chance to speak to someone from the Up-world."

            Carth and I crept carefully through this shanty-town.  Make-shift huts were pieced together with salvaged swoop bike parts, bits of old escape pods and anything else the Outcasts could find.  Fires blazed to keep the villagers warm, but whatever trash they were burning smelled noxious.

            Carved into the side of a rock wall was a cage guarded by the village healer.  Beyond the gates were unfortunate villagers who were stricken with the Rakghoul disease.  In order to save the other Outcasts, these villagers were locked up until they transformed and killed each other.

            The moans of the sick through the gate made me shudder.  I tuned them out and kept walking.  

            There was a lone elderly man who sat humming beneath one of the shelters.  I couldn't help but stare at him as he rocked back and forth to his melody.  It was a mistake.  As soon as I started to pass him, his eyes shot up and locked with mine.

            "You—you come from the world above!"  The old man jabbed a bony finger in my direction.

            I waved sheepishly.  Hopefully I didn't appear as horrified and uncomfortable as I felt.  The old man painstakingly hoisted himself to his feet, his leathery face glued to mine.

            "Is this the time of destiny, then?  Is this a portent of the salvation of my people?"  The man was raving!  "Or merely another false sign to mislead us from the path?  Are you the herald of prophesy?"

            I took a few steps away from the man as he staggered closer.

            "The beacon to guide us through the darkness?  Or are you merely another harbinger of shattered dreams and unfulfilled promises?"

            I felt Carth's hand on my shoulder.  "Be careful… this one might be crazy enough to be dangerous." he muttered as he placed himself between the Outcast and myself.

            "Speak to me Up-worlder!" the man demanded.  His watery eyes seemed to stare through Carth.  "Tell me what fate you unleash upon us—salvation or damnation!  Speak Up-worlder, I beg you!"

            "What are you talking about, old man?"  My voice remained calm, although my face said differently.

            "A question."  The Outcast halted his forward charge.  "You are uncertain.  Bewildered.  Perplexed.  Understandable, I suppose.  Even after one-hundred years of life, I myself still become confused at times.  Perhaps I can make things more clear.  Some things, at least.  My name is Rukil, the oldest Outcast here in the village."

            "Rian Vega."  I crossed my arms.  "What do you want from me, Rukil?"

            "Once I was honored for my wisdom, but over time the villagers fell away from the true path."  Rukil sighed.  "Eventually there was only a single apprentice who followed me—and now she's gone too."

            "The true path?  What does that mean?"  The man was completely incoherent!

            "No, no, no."  Rukil giggled quietly.  "Not yet.  I must be wary.  Careful.  You may be a false savior.  Dare I share my secrets with you?  No… not until you prove yourself."

            "Prove myself?  How can I do that?"  Maybe if Carth and I stepped away from this madman slowly, no one would get hurt.

            "My apprentice is… lost.  I sent her out into the Undercity to find… well, I cannot tell you." Rukil said.  He began to wring his hands together anxiously.  "Sadly my apprentice has not returned.  Please, Up-worlder, will you help an old man?  Will you seek out my apprentice in the Undercity?  Her name is Malya.  I must know her fate, whatever it may be.  I must know what she… found."

            "I'll see what I can do."  I started to back away from Rukil and his hut.

            "Finding her may be difficult; Malya could be anywhere in the Undercity…" Rukil droned.  "But if you find her I will know you to be our true savior!  Only then can I reveal my secret knowledge to you."

            I nodded, regaining control over my cynical visage.  "I'll be back if I find anything out." I promised through my teeth.

            "I wish you luck, Up-worlder!" Rukil called out.  I kept walking and didn't look back.


	21. Blue

Mission:

            My feet pounded along the concrete sewer way.  Past the graffiti wall, to the left of the broken ladder, jumped over the Rakghoul remains, leapt down the crumbling stairway and stopped at the cranny just big enough to fit one fourteen year old Twi'lek.

            I shimmied into the cubby hole, careful not to graze the grimy walls with my body.  I tucked my knees underneath my chin and thumbed my stealth generator on.  Same old drill.  Now, all I had to do was wait.

            Zaalbar sure was taking his time.  I crawled from my hiding space to stretch.  Big Z wouldn't be happy if he knew, but I had my stealth generator on, there was no way anything would find me.

            Minutes passed and then I got a little worried.  Sure, the only thing that Zaalbar could do fast was devour a meal, but come on.  This was taking way too long, even for him.

            "Hey, Big Z!" I hollered.  "Zaalbar!  You walking hairball!  Where are you?"

            No answer.

            I backtracked, heading towards the stairway.  No sign of anything.  I climbed up the stairs and tiptoed forward until I caught the _lovely aroma_ of rotting Rakghoul.  Still no Wookiee.

            "Zaalbar?"

            I heard a squeal in the distance.  My lunch sloshed around uncomfortably in my stomach.  That wasn't the sound of a Wookiee.  

            Big Z was supposed to be right behind me!  How could they have caught him?  It was impossible, wasn't it?

            I spun around and bounded back down the stairs.  I wasn't scared, but if there were enough Gamorreans to overpower Big Z, a fight wouldn't exactly be in my favor.  And if I let them catch me, who would rescue Zaalbar?

            How was I going to rescue Zaalbar?  I ran through a doorway and punched the code panel to shut the door on any possible incoming slavers.  I'd go to the Bek base, Gadon would help me for sure.

            No.  Gadon always griped about me exploring the Undercity.  Too dangerous a risk, he'd tell me.  But that was Big Z!  I couldn't just leave him!

            My lungs were burning and my limbs were beginning to ache.  I kept running.  There was no way I was going to take a breather in "Rakghoul country" even if my friend didn't need help.

            There was an opening from the sewer and I sprinted to it.  I saw a couple of stray Rakghouls, but didn't think much on them.  My stealth generator was on, so unless they tracked me down by following the sound of my panting, I'd be fine.  The gates to the Outcast village were all that I had on my mind.

            I sucked air into my lungs and rushed towards the gates.  I'd get there and… then what?  Make a plan?  Gadon wouldn't help me and I couldn't do this by myself.

            Two figures came into view by the gates and I instinctively tensed.  Not many people in their right mind would willingly come into the Undercity.  There were some Sith patrols looking for those escape pods, but they didn't look like Sith.  They didn't look like Outcasts either.  An old guy with big boots and a tiny lady with a flashy orange jacket.

            I knew them!  The woman had asked me for information back at Javyar's cantina.  Paid me good, too.  If they were crazy enough to come into the Undercity maybe they'd help me.  I was desperate and it was worth a shot.  I flicked off my stealth generator and ran over to them. 

            "Please!" I cried out.  "You have to help me!  Nobody else is going to help me.  Even the Beks won't help me."

            The man's jaw dropped as he stared at me.  The woman's head jerked up and her eyes locked on to mine.  Good.  I had their attention.  

            "But I can't just leave him there—he's my friend!" I continued.  "You'll help me, won't you?"

            "Whoa, slow down, Mission."  The woman put her hand on my shoulder as I stopped abruptly in front of her.  "What's wrong?"

            "It's Zaalbar."  The run was catching up to me.  A drop of sweat slid down my lekku.  "He's in trouble—big trouble!  We have to help him.  If we don't they'll sell him into slavery!"

            "Calm down, Mission."  The woman spoke slowly, her eyes intent on mine.  Deep purple, I didn't know that human eyes came in that color.  "Take a deep breath and tell me what happened."

            I felt dizzy, but I pushed myself.  "Me… me and Zaalbar were just wandering around here in the Undercity.  You know, looking for stuff, just kind of exploring.  We do it all the time."

            "I guess with a Wookiee at your side, you've got to figure you can handle the odd Rakghoul attacks." the man said.  He started digging through his sack.  He pulled out a canteen and handed it to me.

            I took a swig of the canteen, and brushed any excess drops of water away with the back of my hand.  "Only this time they were waiting for us." I explained.  "Gamorrean slave hunters.  We didn't even have a chance to run.  Big Z threw himself at them and he roared for me to run!  I… I took off; I figured Zaalbar would be right behind me.  But there were too many of them—he couldn't get away.  They're going to sell him into slavery—I just know it!"

            The woman gave me a sly smile.  Somehow I knew she was the leader of those two.  Her name was Rhea?  Maybe Reva?  Something with an "R," definitely.  Zaalbar always remembered these small details for me.

            "If I help you get Zaalbar back," she said calmly.  "you have to get me inside the Vulkar base."

            Who were these two?  "It's a deal—as soon as we get Big Z back, I'll show you a way into the Vulkar base!  Now come on—we have to find Zaalbar before they sell him into slavery or worse!"

            I motioned with a hand for them to follow and ran towards the sewers.


	22. A New Ally

Carth:

            The gates that led from the Outcast village into the Undercity were ominous.  Gendar, the Outcast leader had been more than helpful, telling us everything he knew about Mission Vao.  Rian stiffly walked ahead of me towards the gates.  Her silence had begun to gnaw at me.

            It was moments like these that made me wonder why I had left everything to join the military again.  The Republic didn't need me.  I wouldn't hesitate to give my life for my duties and that was admirable, but there were more important things to sacrifice myself for.

            The image of long golden brown hair flashed in my mind again.  I could have been a husband.  But I decided to be a star pilot.  A soldier.  And a damn good one.

            Instead I was stuck trudging through the Undercity trying to rescue a Jedi who may or may not be alive.  The one person that had helped me so far, I managed to completely alienate.  One stupid assumption on my part, Rian was pissed and rightly so.

            "How big do you think these sewers are?" I asked.

            Rian turned to face me.  "They can't be too bad."  She replied.  "All we have to do is follow a trail of Wookiee hair anyway."

            I nodded but she wasn't looking at me anymore.  Rian was convincing the Outcast guard to open the gates.

            It wouldn't take long.  If there was one thing I had learned, that woman knew how to get her way.  Even after growling threats at Gadon Thek's body guard, she managed to get him to guarantee a sponsorship to the annual swoop race in return for pinching a swoop bike accelerator that was stolen from them by the Black Vulkars.  And my highest expectation of our meeting with the Hidden Beks had only been to find out what happened to those downed Republic pods.

            Rian was able to milk that information from Gadon as well.  The Vulkars looted the escape pods that crashed in the Undercity.  A live female Republic officer was found in one.  The name given for the officer was "Rian Vega."  I had to stop myself from choking when I heard that.  It had to be Bastila.  And if it wasn't, well, I wasn't just going to let a fellow soldier be sold into slavery.

            The creaking of the gates opening stirred me from my thoughts.  Rian's nose crinkled as she glanced into the Undercity.

            "Hurry up." she grumbled.  "I don't want to be here any longer than I have to be."

            "I don't blame you." I said.  I hurried to her side.  

            The Undercity was a world of unfulfilled promises.  Structures were half-built and abandoned generations ago.  Amid the rusted, crumbling decay, Rakghouls thrived.  They were hideous creatures with slick white deformed limbs.

            I felt sick to my stomach and clutched my blasters.  To think that these grotesques were once human.  They seemed too preoccupied with fighting each other to notice Rian and me, and I was fine with that.  

            Immediately after entering the Undercity a girl seemed to materialize into the air.  A blue Twi'lek girl.

            "Isn't this convenient." I said, giving Rian a raised eyebrow.

            "She must have been wearing a stealth generator."  Rian shrugged.

            "You don't find it odd that the kid we're looking for falls right into our lap?" I asked.

            "I find a lot of things odd."  A smarmy grin happened across her lips.  "Like the Rodian mating rituals or certain flyboys with unkempt hair and an unhealthy fascination with their _blasters_."

            "Is that it?"  I chuckled.  "Certain smart-mouthed smugglers with eating habits that could make a Hutt wince don't make your list?"

            "Your flattery overwhelms me."  Rian's smile died as the Twi'lek stopped in front of us.

            The girl's face was flushed purple and she was openly panting.  She blinked, her dark blue eyes round and fearful.

            "Please!  You have to help me!  Nobody else is going to help me.  Even the Beks won't help me."  The young Twi'lek was frantic.  If she had hair, she'd be pulling it out.

            Rian stared at the girl intently.  I couldn't read her and I didn't like it.

            Mission didn't seem to notice.  "But I can't just leave him there—he's my friend!"  Her lip quivered and I noticed a bead of sweat get caught in her brow.  "You'll help me, won't you?"

            "Whoa, slow down, Mission."  Rian gave the kid's shoulder a friendly squeeze.  "What's wrong?"

            "It's Zaalbar.  He's in trouble—big trouble!  We have to help him.  If we don't they'll sell him into slavery!"

            The Wookiee.  I should have guessed when she showed up without him.

            "Calm down, Mission."  It was a gentle command, but Rian meant business.  "Take a deep breath and tell me what happened."

            Mission gave us a weak look.  She looked like she had gone through hell just to get here, poor thing.

            "Me… me and Zaalbar were just wandering around here in the Undercity." she said.  "You know, looking for stuff, just kind of exploring.  We do it all the time."

            I slung my travel pack from my shoulder and rifled through it.  There was a canteen in there somewhere.  "I guess with a Wookiee at your side, you've got to figure you can handle the odd Rakghoul attacks."  It was just a little casual conversation to ease Mission's anxiety.

            I found the water and handed it to her.  The girl took it graciously.

            "Only this time they were waiting for us." Mission continued.  "Gamorrean slave hunters.  We didn't even have a chance to run."  She handed the empty canteen back to me.  "Big Z threw himself at them and he roared for me to run!  I… I took off; I figured Zaalbar would be right behind me.  But there were too many of them—he couldn't get away.  They're going to sell him into slavery—I just know it!"

            Mission gave us one last helpless look.  Rian smiled.

            "If I help you get Zaalbar back, you have to get me inside the Vulkar base."

            My jaw dropped.  This wasn't a game, what would happen if the kid didn't play along?

            Mission didn't hesitate.  "It's a deal—as soon as we get Big Z back, I'll show you a way into the Vulkar base!" she agreed.  "Now come on—we have to find Zaalbar before they sell him into slavery or worse!"

            The Twi'lek quickly did an about face on her heels and sprinted towards the sewers.  Her blue hand beckoned for us to follow.

            "Just follow the clumps of Wookiee hair."  Rian grimaced as she trotted after Mission.

            I groaned and fell in behind them.


	23. Uneventful Sewer Romp

Rian:

            _Dank, slimy, grimy, dripping, hot, festering hellhole!_  What had I gotten myself into?  I should just pick Carth's pocket and be on my merry way.  No, I swore I'd earn his trust like an idiot, so I was stuck on this Wookiee hunt.

            Carth had at least one hand attached to a blaster constantly.  He looked worse for wear, gunk had splattered on his military fatigues and his forehead glistened with sweat.  His eyes darted down dark corridors, alert, a wary animal ready for anything.

            Mission wasn't any better.  As the adrenaline drained from her small body she became somber.  She must have been going out of her mind.  If we were too late and Zaalbar was dead or worse, would she be able to forgive herself?  I hoped so.  Mission was too young to let something like the past weigh on her.

            "Hey, Mission." I said.

            Mission jerked herself from whatever morose thoughts she was having and looked at me.  "What can I do for you?" she asked.  Her eyes trailed to a connecting sewer path.

            "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"  And get your mind off of Zaalbar, I thought.

            "Really?"  Mission looked stunned.  

            "Yes, really."  I offered a smile.

            She perked up.  "You want to know about me?  Nobody's ever really been interested in me before.  What did you want to know?"

            I shrugged.  "How did you and Zaalbar hook up?"

            Mission winced.  _Oh great, I got her mind off of Zaalbar, just like I had planned_.  Stupid!

            The petite Twi'lek sighed, but seemed to take it all in stride.  "Big Z's my family, you know?"  Her voice dropped as we trudged through the muck to a doorway.  "My parents… well, I guess they're dead.  It was just me on my own until the day I saw Zaalbar in the Lower City.  

            "I could tell right away he was in trouble.  This was before the gang wars were out of hand, but even then the Vulkars were scum."  Mission's face gradually became more animated as she immersed herself into telling her story.  "A few of them were hassling Big Z, trying to pick a fight—but he wasn't looking for trouble."

            "Who'd want to pick a fight with a Wookiee?" I scoffed.

            Mission snorted.  "Hey, nobody said the Vulkars were smart."

            I found myself admiring the girl.  Her delicate fingers quickly overrode the archaic door lock.  The door groaned as it opened.

            "But there were three of them, so maybe they figured they could handle him." Mission said.  "I don't know.

            "Anyway, I don't like the Vulkars at the best of times.  And when I saw them picking on this poor Wookiee—all alone on  a strange planet, overwhelmed by the big city—I just lost it."  Mission gleamed with intensity.  "I screamed out, 'Leave him alone, you core-slimes!' and charged right at them.  One of them saw me coming and slapped me so hard he just about knocked me cold."

            I chuckled.  "You're lucky he didn't fry you with a blaster."

            Mission scowled.  "Hey, I don't need a lecture from you.  You ain't my mother!" she snapped.  "I knew what I was doing.  Those Vulkars didn't scare me.  They're nothing but cowards.  I knew how to deal with them."

            Carth and I followed Mission through the door.

            "Of course, I never got the chance." she grumbled.  "I guess Zaalbar didn't like seeing me get smacked around.  He let out this howl and yanked that Vulkar a meter up off the ground and held him there by his throat."

            If Wookiees were known for anything, it was their brawn.  Black Vulkars must find their brains in a bantha's hind quarters.  "What did the two other Vulkars do?" I asked.

            "The other two screamed and ran off."  Mission smirked.  "Can't say I blame them.  The first time you see an angry Wookiee up close it isn't a pretty sight.  I thought Zaalbar was going to rip that punk's arms off and beat him to death with his own fists.  The Vulkar was so scared he fainted."  

            The Twi'lek's nose wrinkled as she placed a finger on her chin in thought.  "Or maybe Big Z's breath just knocked him out." she muttered.  "I keep telling Zaalbar to brush those choppers of his, but he never listens.  Just stay upwind when he's speaking and you'll be fine.

            "Anyway, I knew those Vulkars would be back with friends, so I grabbed Zaalbar and we took off.  Ever since then we've been a team.  We look out for each other, you know?"

            A screech echoed down the gloomy corridor.  I suppose it would have been too much to ask for a smooth, uneventful trek through the sewers.

            "Sorry to break up your conversation, ladies," Carth cut in.  "but we've got trouble."

            Mission visibly tensed.  Carth tossed her one of his blasters and I grappled for my vibroblades.

            The creature came barreling out of the shadows.  Festering white skin was stretched over malformed limbs and it stared with vacant yellow eyes, but it was its scream that made my blood run cold.  Shrieks filled with pain and hatred, the sound a body makes when it scratches steel.

            Carth opened fire and Mission quickly followed suit.  I stood there, paralyzed by the monster's howls of senseless rage.

            "Rian!"  Carth's voice penetrated my shock.  "Snap out of it!"

            I looked up in time to see the Rakghoul lunge for me.  I instinctively thrust one of my vibroblades up in time.  The creature impaled itself as it crashed on top of me.

            My other vibroblade went flying as I flung my free arm up to protect my face.  The discarded blade clattered in the distance.  The air was torn from my lungs and my head cracked against the concrete ground.  My head was never going to heal.

            I tasted blood.  I looked up at the dead weight on top of me, its eyes glazed over, my left hand in its mouth.  _Oh shit…_

            "Rian, are you okay?" Carth called out.

            "Does it look like I'm okay?"  I groaned.  "Get this thing off of me."

            On the count of three Carth and Mission rolled the dead Rakghoul from my body.  I wrenched my fist from the creature's mouth and pressed my punctured palm against my stomach.

            "Did it bite you?"  Carth grabbed my good hand and hoisted me to my feet.  "Did you get any of its blood or saliva in your eyes?  In your mouth?  Any open wounds?"

            "No."  I clenched my bleeding palm into a fist and held it stiffly at my side.  "I'm fine."

            "You're the luckiest damn woman I've ever met." Carth said.

            "Yeah…"

            "That was some shot you had with a blaster, Mission."  Carth turned to her, approvingly.

            Mission grinned.  "Yeah, well, like I used to tell my brother, fast talk and slick words don't get the job done."

            "I didn't know you had a brother." I said.

            "My brother's a touchy subject, you know?"  Mission's smile died.  "It just so happens I don't really feel like talking about him right now.  Nothing personal, I just want to find Big Z."

            "Yeah," I agreed.  "let's get this over with."


	24. Taste Freedom

Bastila:

_            Only one knot remained.  The slickest, the tightest, the last._

_            To help guide my mind, I had envisioned fingers digging into the knots, prying them apart.  My imaginary fingers were now torn and bloodied, but persistent._

_            My physical fingers were filed and painted with lavender enamel.  Tacky, but I could sense them now amid the drunken headache that the neural disruptor induced._

_            I could feel the slow rise and fall of my breasts against a primitive metal bustier with each breath.  My awareness was back, but any attempted movement was groggy and ill-maneuvered._

_            Concentrate.  One final oily knot and I would be free.  Then that Vulkar beast would pay.  Jedi belong to no one._


	25. Rescue

Rian:

            "That's the second body you've ransacked."  Carth crossed his arms.

            "So?" I snapped.  I started digging through the pack that the Sith corpse had carried.

            "I just thought that you didn't want to take a long time down here." he replied.

            "Well, maybe on the way we can figure out what happened to Rukil's apprentice." I said.

            Carth raised his eyebrow, but said nothing.  It was okay, he didn't have to believe me, just so long as he didn't catch on to my real motive.

            "We need to find Zaalbar before it's too late." Mission said.  She looked anxious to move.

            I ground my teeth together.  A few credits, an uncharged blaster and an identification card.  No serum.

            "You're right." I told Mission.  "Let's find the Wookiee."

            I stood up and followed the other two through the sewer.  There had been fewer Rakghouls in this section of sewer and gradually more Gamorreans, so we must have been heading in the right direction.

            I stopped in my tracks when I heard Mission gasp.

            "What's wrong?" Carth asked. 

            Mission glared at him and elbowed him in the ribs.  I couldn't blame her.  A few yards away, a Gamorrean sat sleeping in front of a sealed door.

            "Some guard." I whispered. 

            "I'll take care of this." Carth murmured.

            Mission and I looked on as Carth crept towards the slumbering Gamorrean.  He cracked the Gamorrean over the head with the back of his blaster.  The Gamorrean slumped forward and Carth slipped his blaster back into his holster.

            "He'll be out for a while." he said.  

            Mission scurried towards the door and began to examine it.  She ran her hands over the control panel and then scowling, kicked the door.

            "What's wrong?" I asked.

            "Look at this." she muttered, staring intently at the door.  "This is one of those old style manual locks.  No computer codes or nothing.  The sewers are the only place you'll see one of these on Taris.  You can't use conventional security spikes on these old locks."

            "Well can you do something?" I demanded.  Damn it, I wasn't trying to be impatient but I could _feel it_ itching around my puncture wound.  If I could cut it out, I would, but it was in my blood.  I couldn't just drain every drop of blood from my body.

            "Don't worry."  Mission didn't sound too sure of herself.  "I've come across them before.  I've rigged up a little device that _should_ do the trick."

            Mission quickly went to work, reaching into her pockets.  She popped something into her mouth and started chewing fiercely.  Red and blue wires were sticking out of something.

            "Rigged something, huh?" Carth muttered.  He had a peculiar grin on his face.

            "What about it?" I asked.

            "The kid's playing with permacrete." he said.

            "What?"

            Mission stuck the detonator to the door.  She turned to face us and shot an impish grin.  

            "On the count of three," she said.   "I'm going to trigger this thing.  When I say three, we run."

            "But—" I spluttered.

            "One."

            "Wait a minute…" I pleaded.

            "Two."

            "Stop it.  I mean it!"

            "Three."  Mission jabbed a red button on the detonator.  It started to beep.

            "Run!" Carth screamed.

            I scrambled to the other end of the corridor with Carth and Mission on my heels.  I covered my head with my hands, between crash landing on Taris and dancing with a Rakghoul, my skull couldn't take another beating.

            The explosion was deafening.  Carth's body collided with mine and I landed face first in a puddle of muck.  When the dust cleared I shoved him off of me and wiped my face on his shirt.  Mission was already standing brushing herself off.  She giggled.

            "What's so funny?" I growled.

            Mission pointed towards the decimated door.  We had managed to escape the blast, but forgot about the unconscious Gamorrean.  What remained of him lay underneath a pile of rubble.

            "Is that a Twi'lek thing, or do you just have a really sick sense of humor?" I grumbled.

            "Twi'leks and humans aren't that different."  Mission sniffed.  "As a matter of fact, I was told a story when I was a kid about how humans used to be Twi'leks."

            "Really?"  I raised an eyebrow.  I stood up and glowered at the stain on my pants.

            "Really." Mission said.  "There was a group of Twi'leks that disobeyed the wishes of their clan and as punishment had their lekku removed.  They took the name 'humans' because 'blight of the galaxy' would be too obvious."

            "I'll remember that." I said dryly.

            "You're a sight for sore eyes, Mission."

            Mission's eyes lit up at the sound of Shyriiwook.  Through the debris around the doorway, the newly freed Wookiee carefully made his way out.

            "Zaalbar!" she squealed.  She ran over to the Wookiee and dove into his arms.  "I'm glad to see you too!  You didn't think I'd forget about you—Mission and Zaalbar together forever!"

            Zaalbar wrapped Mission up in a hug.  Her feet left the ground and she nuzzled her nose into his fur.

            Zaalbar looked up and gave Carth and me a wary eye.  "Who's that with you?" he asked her.

            Mission grinned and jumped down from his embrace.  "These are my new friends, Big Z." she announced.  "Rian and Carth.  Without them, I never could have got you out."

            "Don't mention it."  Wookiee vocal cords can resonant deeper vibrations than humans, so my ability to speak Shyriiwook was limited, but it was a simple phrase.  I laughed nervously.

            The Wookiee's eyes, watery and black, ate holes into me.  _What did he see?  What was he thinking?_  I crossed my arms, conscious of my damaged palm.

            "You know the language of my people?"  Zaalbar was astounded.

            Mission grinned from ear to ear jubilantly.  Carth had his hand on his goatee, shaking his head.

            "That is rare among your species; I am impressed." the Wookiee said finally.  "You have saved me from a life of servitude and slavery.  There is only one way I can repay such an act.  I will swear a life debt to you."

            Mission's jaw dropped.  "A life debt?" she blubbered.  "Are you sure about that, Big Z?  Think about it carefully.  You better be sure about this."

            The Wookiee wasn't about to be swayed.  "I am sure, Mission.  This is an issue of great importance to me.  Because of our great physical strength, Wookiees are being used as slave labor on our own homeworld." he explained.  "They see us as brutes and animals to be exploited.  Over the years slavers have taken many of my people; we must always be on guard against raids against our villages."

            Zaalbar let out a deep sigh.  "When the Gamorreans captured me, I thought I was doomed to a life of servitude.  I have been saved from such a fate and the only way I can repay that is through a life debt."

            "Big Z swearing a Wookiee life debt to you." Mission murmured.  "Wow—this is major.  Do you realize what this means?"

            I looked to Carth for help, but he just smirked.  "It's some kind of loyalty vow, isn't it?" I said hesitantly.

            Mission nodded.  "A life debt is the most solemn vow a Wookiee can make." she said.  "It means he'll stay by your side for the rest of your life—wherever you go, whatever you do, Zaalbar will be with you."

            I tried to smile as I shook my head.  Carth laughed softly.  I glared at him and opened my mouth.  Zaalbar cut me off.

            "In the presence of you all I swear my life debt.  Forever after I will be by your side, Rian.  May my vow be as strong as the roots of the great wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk."

            I offered a weak smile.  "I'm honored to accept this vow."  I sighed.  Just what I needed, a walking carpet to shadow me.

            "I guess that means you're stuck with me too."  Mission grinned broadly.  "Wherever Big Z goes, I'm going.  I almost lost him once—it's not going to happen again."

            "I'm glad to have you aboard, Mission."  That saccharin smile was frozen on my face.  Paranoid flyboy?  Check.  Hairball and Snot-nosed brat?  Check.  My problems were just stacking up.  I needed to find that serum and soon.

            "So…" Mission's voice trailed off.  She kicked a small piece of rubble.  "I guess I still owe you one secret path into the Vulkar base.  That was the deal, wasn't it?"

            I raised an eyebrow and glared at her.  Mission had better not be thinking of backing out on me now.

            "Don't worry."  She raised her hands, defensively.  "I know a back door into that scum den."

            "Good." Carth cut in.  "The sooner we get there, the better."

            "I better come with you." Mission said.  "The Vulkars put up a force shield to keep the sewer dwellers out.  I'm one of the only non-Vulkars on Taris who can get you past it.  It's to the northeast, if I remember right.  I just hope the rancor monster isn't still there."

            "Rancor?" I spluttered.  "Are you serious?"

            Mission shrugged.  "There used to be a rancor monster that made its nest in that part of the sewers.  Pretty much eats anything it can get its claws on." she explained.  "That thing is huge!  Luckily rancors aren't too bright.  I was able to sneak past it before, so I'm sure we'll figure something out.  That is, unless you change your mind."

            I glanced at Carth.  He gave me a stern look.  I sighed.  "That's not really an option."

              "Okay then, off we go." Mission said.

            I shook my head.  "Not so fast.  It's late."  Carth opened his mouth to argue, but I interrupted him.  "Let's call it a night and start again early in the morning."

            "I guess you're right." he muttered.

            I chuckled to myself nervously.  I sure as hell wasn't going to get any sleep that night.  Let them be cozy and warm in that crowded apartment, I was going to spend the night in the Undercity frolicking from Sith corpse to Sith corpse until I found some serum.


	26. Hunt

Rian:

            By the time we reached the Outcast village, it had to be night.  The Undercity was always dark, but it looked like people were huddled around cooking fires. 

            The smoke billowing from the flames was a deep blue.  Definitely not healthy, but warm.  By the firelight, Carth was cleaning his blasters.  Mission was telling Shaleena extravagant stories of the Up-world.  I was alone.

            "You are damaged, Rian Vega."

            I jerked my head towards the voice.  Zaalbar stood a couple feet behind me.  Neither a frown nor a smile was on his face, just a considering look.

            "What about it, fuzz-ball?" I demanded.

            "You are ill, are you not?" he rumbled.

            "What if I am?"

            "It's your scent." Zaalbar explained.  "It reeks of disease."

            I glanced over my shoulder.  Carth and Mission were still oblivious.  Good.

            "Is it that bad?" I whispered.

            "You do not smell of death, if that is what you mean." he said.

            "This conversation stays between us."

            "I have sworn a life debt to you, Rian Vega." Zaalbar assured.  "I place your honor above my own."

            I sighed.  I lifted my left palm face up towards the Wookiee.  The wound had long since stopped bleeding, but the surrounding tissue had turned a sickly white.  I gave him a forlorn look.

            "I can feel this thing burning through me." I murmured.  "I need to go back into the Undercity to try and find some serum."

            Zaalbar nodded.  "I will accompany you, then."

            "Thank you."

            I walked over to Carth.  He had been discussing something quietly with Gendar, but stopped abruptly at my arrival.  I said my hellos to Gendar and quickly pulled Carth aside.

            "I want you to take Mission to our apartment." I said softly.

            "Of course." he replied.  "I thought we were going to do that anyway."

            "No, no…"  I exhaled.  "Not 'we.'  You."

            "What?"  His face darkened.  I raised a finger to silence his outburst.

            "Please." I hissed.  "I have to do something down here.  Zaalbar's already agreed to come with me, so I'll be fine."

            "Fine?" Carth growled.  "Didn't we just have to rescue that Wookiee from slavers?"

            "I'll be fine." I insisted.  I took a deep breath to calm myself.  "I need you to take care of Mission for me.  I don't want her following me and Zaalbar into the Undercity."

            "What's this all about?"

            "I don't have time for this."  I groaned.  "I promise I'll explain everything to you later.  Just trust me on this one, please?"

            Carth's eyes narrowed.  "I don't like this, Rian."

            I sighed.  "I know.  Just keep Mission out of trouble, okay?"

            He shook his head.  "Fine.  But I expect a damn good explanation later."

            "And you'll get one.  I swear."

            Carth mumbled something under his breath, but he headed off towards Mission.  I walked towards Zaalbar and took the Wookiee by the arm.

            "I hope you're ready." I said.  Zaalbar grunted his reply.

            Instead of immediately heading towards the sewers like last time, we explored the territory outside the Outcast gates.  Zaalbar was quick with his bowcaster and mowed down most of the Rakghouls before they got close enough for my vibroblades.  That gave me the luxury to scan the area for corpses.

            It's strange how bodies look like they're peacefully napping on the ground.  Curled up on their sides, they seem so tranquil, content.  But then you roll them over to scavenge their remains and flesh is shredded in places or missing altogether.  I sometimes wish that I could be one of the privileged who could afford to let the dead rest.

            I came across the body of a girl, pretty save for her missing jaw.  Her glassy blue eyes stared at nothing, but she had a datapad clutched to her breast.  I gently pried it from her cold fingers.

            "I found Malya."  I closed the girl's eyes with my first and middle finger.

            Zaalbar cocked his head to one side, confused.  I shook my head.

            "Never mind." I muttered.

            We continued on.  There was a vast array of bodies scattered throughout the Undercity, including a Republic soldier.  There was nothing of value on his body, but the escape pod a couple meters away was a different story.

            "What's this, a swoop bike handle?"  I picked up the slender metal object.  "What do you make of it, Zaalbar?"

            The Wookiee moaned apprehensively.  My thumb grazed over a button and I heard a hiss.  On both sides of the cylinder beams of yellow sprang out.

            I yelped and dropped it.  The blades of the dual sided lightsaber cut through the remains of the escape pod like butter.  I quickly searched for the button and turned it off.

            "We should probably hold on to this." I said.  I shoved the lightsaber snuggly into a pocket of my orange jacket.

            I kept my eyes open for the glint of white armor.  When I found one I headed towards it.  No serum.

            "These Sith sure are stingy." I muttered.

            "I see another corpse over there." Zaalbar grunted. 

            My gaze followed his shaggy arm to another fallen Sith.  A white hot gleaming beacon of hatred, that doofus had the nerve to die in the middle of a group of Rakghouls.

            "You sure know how to pick them."  I raised an eyebrow at Zaalbar.  He shrugged and starting firing his bowcaster at the pack.

            Two were downed in an instant.  Three more charged at us.  Zaalbar shot one more before they closed in.

            "Here!"  I threw a vibroblade at the Wookiee.  Zaalbar snarled his thanks as he turned towards his attacker.

            I blocked a strike from my Rakghoul with my remaining blade.  I twisted the vibroblade at an angle so it would slice into the creature's claws.  The Rakghoul shrieked and wrenched its arm away from my blade.  I took that opportunity to step in close to the monster.  I stabbed it in the throat with my vibroblade and twirled away from its flailing arms.

            "Come on."  I snatched my other vibroblade back from Zaalbar.  He trotted after me.

            I dove at the corpse, and began rifling through the remains.  Credits, identification, worthless blaster, canteen…

            "Where is it?" I screamed.

            Zaalbar kneeled besides me.  He placed a hand on my shaking shoulder.

            "Patience, Rian Vega."

            "I don't have time to be patient!" I spat.

            Zaalbar ignored me.  He began to inspect the corpse.  He pushed the chest plate out of the way and undid the soldier's belt.  The metal belt in his hands, Zaalbar passed it slowly through his fingers.  Charges for the blaster were clipped to the belt and a satchel.

            Zaalbar opened the satchel carefully.  I busied myself with clenching and unclenching my fists.  A small syringe was inside.

            "I believe this is what you need." he said.

            I laughed hysterically.  "Let's get out of here, pal."

            Zaalbar nodded.

            We made quick work of escaping the Undercity.  I practically lunged head-first into the elevator.

            "Why are you not using the serum?" Zaalbar asked as we headed to the Lower City.

            "I will." I said.  "But there's something I need to see about first."

            "Isn't this more important?"

            I chuckled.  "Not quite." I replied.  "If I use this up now, it's gone forever.  What happens if someone else gets infected while we're down there tomorrow?  I'm taking this to Zelka Forn to see if he can duplicate it."

            "You are wise for a human." Zaalbar rumbled.

            "What's that supposed to mean, Carpet?" I snorted.

            The elevator door opened and we walked into the Lower City.  I ignored the Twi'lek corpse that greeted us.  I made a beeline for the Upper City elevators.

            I didn't like the way that Zaalbar would quietly watch me.  Even if I jerked my head up and caught him in the act, he wouldn't turn his gaze from me.  It was unnerving.

            "I don't suppose there's any way you'd revoke this life debt, is there."  I stepped into the elevator.

            "A life debt is for life." he said simply.

            I sighed.  "I figured."

            The ascent to Upper City was silent.  Zaalbar's eyes were glued to me and I was trying to keep my mind from it.

            I exited the elevator at a run.  Zaalbar had no trouble keeping up.  We headed towards Zelka Forn's facility.

            "Welcome back."  Zelka was busy washing his hands.  "Are you in need of healing or medical supplies?"

            "I've got something you might want to see."  I hurried towards him, fumbling for the syringe.

            "What is that?" he asked.  Zelka plucked the syringe from my hand and held to the light to examine it.

            "Rakghoul serum." I said, breathless.

            "Are you serious?"  Zelka's eyes became very round.  "You're giving this to me?"

            "Sort of."

            "Are you looking for a pay-off?" A bushy white eyebrow fell angrily over his eyes.

            "Nothing like that."  I shook my head.  "I would love for you to be able to duplicate it, but you only have a limited amount of time."

            I showed him my hand.  The white had spread to the entirety of my palm, the creases in my hand an ill yellow.

            "If you can't figure out the formula soon, I'm going to have to use the sample." I whispered.

            Zelka nodded.  "I see."  He motioned towards a bench.  "Have a seat and I'll see what I can do."

            Zelka opened the syringe and walked towards a machine.  He poured a drop of the serum into it.  He came back over towards me.

            "I only needed a drop." He explained.  "That device will separate all the components, so that I can see what they are and what percentage."

            "How long will that take?" I asked.

            "A few hours, then I'll have to make the serum." Zelka said.  "If I have the supplies to."

            "I'm just supposed to sit and wait?" I demanded.

            "No.  Don't be silly." he chided.  "The machine only required a drop of the serum.  Use the rest of it."

            Zelka readied the syringe while I grumbled.  He stabbed me in the arm with the needle as soon as I wasn't paying attention.  I caught the yelp in my throat and then glowered.

            "Come back in the morning and I should have a bunch of Rakghoul serum made." Zelka said.

            "I'll do that."  I rubbed my arm fiercely.

            Zelka bandaged my hand up tightly.  I said my thanks, then hurried to the exit with Zaalbar.

            At the door of the facility, Zaalbar and I were stopped by Gurney.  He glared murder and stepped defiantly in front of us.

            "You blew it!" he hissed.  "If you had brought the Rakghoul serum to Zax he would have made it worth your while.  But no—you had to go do the _honorable_ thing."

            Zaalbar growled a warning, but I held him back.

            "Don't worry." I told him.  "I'll handle this."

            Zaalbar snarled again, but backed off.  I wiped the sneer from Gurney's face with a right hook.

            "Let's get out of here, pal." I said.  Zaalbar nodded and followed me out of the facility.


	27. Caffa Break

Carth:

            "And I win again."  Mission grinned.

            I groaned.  The girl held out an expectant hand.  I dug into my pockets for the necessary credits.

            "Ready to play again?" she asked.

            "No way."  It had to have been more than a coincidence that she won six times in a row.  "I've had enough of pazaak."

            Mission frowned.  "Well, what do you want to do then?"

            What I wanted to do was head to the Undercity and drag Rian out of there.  What did she think she was doing?  She had promised to explain everything when she got back and like an idiot I agreed to let her go.  Why hadn't she included me?  To look after Mission?  Not likely.  The only reason she probably took Zaalbar with her was because he would go along with whatever harebrained scheme she had.

            I shouldn't have been worried.  Even if the planet blew up, something told me that Rian Vega would find a way to come out on top.  But something was up that she was keeping me out of and it was driving me crazy.  If I just had a glimmering of what was going on, I was sure that I could rest easier.

            "Carth?"

            I shook my head.  Mission was looking at me with her head cocked to one side.  She looked concerned.

            "Huh?"

            "Caffa?"  Mission was holding a steaming mug in her hands.  "Did you want some?"

            "Oh."  I smiled and took the cup from her hands.  "Thanks."

            "No problem."  Mission walked over towards the bureau and poured herself a cup.  "No offense, but you look kind of out of it."

            "I do?"  I laughed.  "You're probably right.  I've just had a lot of things on my mind lately."

            "I bet."  She had a mischievous smirk on her face as she took a sip of caffa.  "It wouldn't have anything to do with a certain vibroblade wielding lady?"

            I gagged on my caffa.  "I don't know what you're talking about."

            Mission giggled.  "Hey, I might be young, but I'm not stupid." she said.  "How long have you two been together?"

            "It's nothing like that." I insisted.

            Mission's eyes trailed to the sole bed in the apartment.

            "I sleep on the floor." I stammered.

            "Fine."  That smug grin would not leave the girl's face.  "What are you two doing on Taris, anyway?"

            "We're looking for someone." I said turning back to my caffa.

            "And that requires me to help you guys break into the Vulkar base."  Mission raised an eyebrow.

            "Trust me, the less you know, the safer you are." I said.

            Mission snorted.  "It doesn't matter what I know," she replied.  "after I break into the Vulkar base with you guys, I'm not going to be safe anymore."

            "We're breaking into the Vulkar base to help the Beks and in return Gadon Thek is going to help us."  I sighed.  "Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

            Mission shrugged.  She downed her caffa and started to shuffle through her pazaak cards.  An agonizing silence enveloped us.

            I started pacing.  It was dark outside; they had been gone for too long.  I'd wait for one more hour, then I'd go and look for them. 

            "You're a pilot for the Republic, right?"  Mission's voice cut through the silence.

            "Yeah, why?"

            "You've been all over the galaxy I bet, right?"  She looked hopeful.  "So tell me, how would you rate Taris compared to other worlds you've seen?"

            I chuckled bitterly.  "I'll be honest, Mission.  Taris would rate pretty low."  I sipped my caffa, letting the bitter liquid linger in my mouth.  "The prejudice, the rich spoiling themselves while the poor are crushed beneath them—not a pretty picture."

            "Yeah,"  Mission shrugged.  "but that's only since the Sith occupation.  Before that… well, I guess it wasn't all that different really."  She looked at me.  "Maybe Taris ain't as great as I thought, you know?"

            "Trust me, Mission.  There are a lot of worlds better than Taris." I assured her.  "There are worse too.  But Taris is no place for a kid to live on her own—even a kid who's got a Wookiee to look out for her."

            Mission's dark blue eyes narrowed into slits.  "Hey, I ain't no kid!" she fumed.  "I look out for Big Z as much as he looks out for me.  Big Z's my friend, not my babysitter!  Geez, I come ask you a question and you give me a lecture."

            "Don't you snap at me, missy!" I barked.  "You want a lecture?  How's this: Only bratty little children fly off the handle because of a single comment."

            Mission stuck out her tongue.  "I don't have to listen to you, Carth!" she declared.  "You ain't my father—though you're sure old enough to be!  So keep your lectures inside your withered old head 'cause I don't need 'em!"  She crossed her arms stiffly.

            A disgruntled roar interrupted our spat.  Mission eyed the door anxiously as Zaalbar entered.  In his arms was Rian.

            I leapt to their side.  "What happened?" I demanded.

            The Wookiee bared his teeth at me and moaned something.

            "What did he say?" I glared at Mission.  "What's going on?"

            Mission groaned.  "Relax, geezer." she said.  "Rian's asleep."

            "What happened?" I repeated.

            Mission turned to Zaalbar.  The Wookiee carried on in Shyriiwook.  _And I had thought studying Huttese in school had been a smart choice.  _Mission had no problem understanding, however, and began to translate.

            "Big Z says that a side effect of the medicine is drowsiness." she said.

            "Medicine?" I exclaimed.  "What does she need medicine for?"

            The Wookiee growled at me and started for the bed.  Mission looked hurt and scrambled after him.

            "What do you mean 'you can't'?"  Her lower lip jutted out and she put her hands on her hips.

            Zaalbar gently laid Rian on the bed.  She sighed peacefully as she snuggled deeper into the pillow.  Zaalbar pulled a blanket over her, covering Rian to her throat.

            Mission scowled and jabbed Zaalbar in the ribs.  "Talk to me, Big Z!"

            The Wookiee moaned apologetically.  Mission groaned and shot me a helpless look.

            "Big Z said that he promised Rian that he wouldn't discuss it."  She shrugged.  "Wookiees are known to be stubborn."

            "I'll just have to wake her up then." I grumbled.  I headed for the bed.

            Zaalbar stepped in front of me.  He flashed his sharp teeth at me again.

            Mission laughed.  "Good luck trying." she said.  "Big Z dedicated his life to Rian and he doesn't think you should wake her up."

            I was speechless.  The Wookiee smiled at me the way a child would at a stray garnant in its clutches.  I groaned and threw my hands up.

            "You've got to be kidding me." I muttered.

            The Wookiee had no reply.  His eyes, however, bore holes into me, waiting expectantly.  I had no desire to be torn limb from limb so I backed off.

            "Fine." I said.  "I'll wait until the morning.  But then I expect some answers."

            What was going on here?  It was difficult enough dealing with Rian when it was just the two of us.  But now with a Wookiee bodyguard and a troublesome kid thrown into the mix things weren't pointing in my favor.  Well, as soon as we got off Taris with Bastila, I would be reassigned and I could leave Rian Vega and her growing entourage behind.


	28. Life Debt

            _The woman crept closer to the cloaked figure.  Was he dead?  Injured?  I could see her chest heave with every breath; practically feel the hot vapor she exhaled._

_            If she would remove the mask, show me who that man is—was, it could all make sense.  But it was fading again…_

My eyes fluttered open.  I sat up and began kneading the crick in my neck.  Carth was leaning against the wall opposite from the bed.  He had a haggard look to him.

            "How long have you been up?"  I yawned.

            "All night."  His voice was gruff.  "Your Wookiee friend likes to snore."

            I snickered as I slid from the bed.  I headed over to Carth, careful not to step on Zaalbar who was curled up next to the bed, Mission sleeping soundly in his arms.  The girl's head seemed to rattle with each raspy breath the Wookiee exhaled.

            "Why don't you lie down?" I suggested. "You're no use to me exhausted."

            Carth's eyes lingered on the mattress for a moment before he shook his head.  "We need to talk." he said.

            "You're not allergic to Wookiee, are you?"  I gave him a toothy grin as I stretched my sleepy arms.

            "What were you doing in the Undercity?" he pressed.

            "I think I should wake Mission and Zaalbar up." I mumbled.  "We need to head to the Vulkar base."

            As I turned away, Carth grabbed my bandaged hand.  I tried to jerk my arm from him, but he wouldn't let go.  Carth roughly tugged at the gauze and began to strip my injured hand.

            "Why did you stop at Zelka Forn's?" he asked quietly.

            The voice in the back of my head screamed _Lie! _ I had to remind myself of the promise I had made.  The bandage was in Carth's fist now; the healing wound's puckered skin was exposed.  My normal flesh tone was slowly coming back but the vicinity of the puncture was still a ghastly shade of white.

            "I lied earlier about not being bitten."  My throat wanted to close up and swallow the admission.  I forced myself to continue.  "I had to go back with Zaalbar to find serum."

            Carth led me hand-first towards the bureau.  He pulled the top drawer open and produced a roll of gauze.

            "Why didn't you just tell me?"  He began to redress my injury.

            I snorted bitterly.  "Tell you that I was infected with an incurable disease that would turn me into mindless killer and risk you filling me full of blaster holes as a precaution?"  I sighed.  "No thanks pal."

            "You think I'd shoot you?"  Carth pulled the fresh bandage tightly around my hand.  He lacked the bedside manner that Doctor Forn had, but it was no less effective.

            "Well, it would have been an easy solution."  I held my bandaged hand out for inspection, flexing it carefully.

            "I think Zaalbar's awake."  Carth cleared his throat.

            The Wookiee barked a quick good morning in reply.  He stood, the small Twi'lek still in his arms.  He set Mission softly on the bed.

            "Is this human bothering you, Rian Vega?"

            "What if he is?"  I smirked.

            "I will take care of him."  Zaalbar lumbered over to Carth.

            Carth shot me a confused look as the Wookiee lifted him off the ground by his collar.  Zaalbar roared and Carth struggled for his blasters.

            "Zaalbar!" I exclaimed.  I tried to reach his outstretched arm connected to Carth's neck, but realized that I was too short.  I jumped and grappled for the Wookiee's forearm.

            Zaalbar glanced at me dangling from his arm.  "Is this not what you want?" he questioned.

            "No!" I hollered.  "Put him down.  Now!"

            Zaalbar relented.  With a sigh he released Carth and I dropped back to the floor.  Mission giggled from her seat on the bed and Carth glowered at her as he ran a hand over his throat.

            "What was that about?" I cried.

            "I was protecting you." Zaalbar said.

            "Protecting…"  That was too much.  I doubled over, laughing until my eyes brimmed with tears.  I grabbed my aching sides with my hands and forced myself to stand up straight.

            "Zaalbar," I managed between guffaws.  "I don't need protection from _him_."  I motioned a thumb at Carth.

            "I don't understand." Zaalbar moaned.  "Is Carth Onasi part of your honor family?"

            "Will you not attack him?" I asked.

            "I have made a grievous mistake."  Zaalbar's eyes became perfectly round.  "Your honor family is my honor family.  Please forgive me."

            "Just don't let it happen again."  I fought the smile that wanted to cross my lips.  "Is there any decent caffa in this place?"

            After breakfast we headed back to the sewers.  Mission led us to the force field, a brassy look of confidence on her face.  Zaalbar meanwhile crept lightly around Carth.  The Wookiee seemed sincerely apologetic and was looking for an excuse to redeem himself.

            "I think you were right about Bastila surviving the crash."

            Carth stopped trudging through the sludge at my statement.  "What makes you so sure?"

            I reached into my pocket and pulled out the lightsaber.  "Zaalbar and I found some of the Republic pods while looking for the Rakghoul serum." I explained.  I tossed Carth the lightsaber.  "The only body by the crash was a soldier's."

            "Good work." he murmured.  Carth passed it between his hands briefly before giving it back to me.

            Carth and Zaalbar had trouble keeping up with Mission's nimble figure.  The girl made leaping over debris look flawlessly easy.  I was less graceful than she, but quicker so I could stay on her heels although my clothes were far more soiled in the end.

            The force field gave the entire hall a blue glow.  I'd hate to be any hapless creature that tried to crawl through those lasers; they probably wouldn't even be given the chance to think 'Sithspit!' before they were vaporized.

            "Lucky for you, I've got the proper codes."  Mission gave us all a smug grin.  "I picked them off the pocket of a Black Vulkar who had a little too much to drink in the cantina one night."

            The blue Twi'lek punched in the code.  As the energy field fell, her grin widened.

            The tunnels leading to the Vulkar base were much quieter than the normal sewer ways.  Water dripping from a leaky pipe echoed with an eerie resonance.

            Mission was confidently plodding forward.  Zaalbar was still following Carth hesitantly, a look of despair on his furry mug.  Carth had both blasters in his hands and I had the sinking feeling that he would accidentally shoot Zaalbar if startled.

            "Zaalbar.  Carth."  I stepped between the two.  "Why don't you two just talk and get it out of the way?"

            "It's not that simple, Rian Vega." Zaalbar moaned.

            "I don't speak Shyriiwook." Carth replied.

            "I do."

            Carth gave me a wary look as I offered a thumbs up.  Zaalbar looked embarrassed.

            "Just apologize and get it over with, Zaalbar." I insisted.

            "It's not that simple." he rumbled.  "I must redeem my honor."

            "See?  It wasn't so hard, was it?"  I turned to Carth.  "Zaalbar says he deeply regrets ever trying to hurt you."

            The Wookiee's nostrils flared in a snarl.  "I never said that!" he growled.

            I shrugged.  "It was a rough translation."

            "What ever he said," Carth interrupted.  "it doesn't matter.  Zaalbar doesn't need to apologize.  I just want to put the whole thing behind me."

            "I will redeem myself, Carth Onasi." Zaalbar vowed.

            I shook my head.  At least I tried.

            Before an enormous open doorway, Mission stopped dead in her tracks.  Slowly, she turned to face us, her nose wrinkled in disgust.  Her deep blue eyes were directed towards Zaalbar.

            "Hey Big Z."  She walked over to him and took a tentative sniff.  "We've got to do something about your breath.  I didn't want to say anything, but it's bad.  Worse than usual, which is hard to believe." Mission announced matter-of-factly.  "In fact, now that I think about it, your breath has been pretty rancid ever since we rescued you from those Gamorrean slavers.  What did they feed you, buddy?"

            Zaalbar turned his head from Mission.  I noticed the Wookiee's nose twitch, trying to detect any odor.

            "They didn't." he replied finally.  "I wasn't their guest, Mission.  I was a prisoner.  I don't think they cared much what happened to me."

            "Oh Zaalbar, that's terrible!" Mission exclaimed.  She walked over to Zaalbar and threw her head against his torso as she hugged him.  "I know how grouchy you get if you don't get your eight square meals a day.  I'm amazed you didn't pass out from hunger."

            Zaalbar shrugged uncomfortably.  "I did manage to take a chunk out of the arm of a guard that wandered too close to my cage." he replied.  "But it tasted awful, so I spit it out."

            "Eww!"  Mission pulled herself away from Zaalbar abruptly.  "No wonder your breath is so bad, Big Z.  Gamorreans smell like bantha poo doo!" she declared.  "We'll have to pick you up a toothbrush to clean that stench out of your choppers."

            "Wookiees do not brush their teeth, Mission!" Zaalbar roared.  "It… it just isn't done!  What humiliation will you use on me next?  A comb?"

            "Okay, relax.  No toothbrush.  Sheesh."  Mission stuck out her tongue.  "Just try to eat something else to cover up that smell, okay?  Stay away from anything that's smart enough to lock you in a cage next time."

            The Wookiee sighed and nodded.  "I'll take care of it as soon as I can, Mission."

            "I smell something too." I piped in.  "But I don't think it's Zaalbar."

            "I think I know what it is." Carth said as he poked his head through the doorway.

            "Oh?"  I peered around the doorway and gasped.

            Amid piles of bones and strewn about rotting corpses, it stood.  Pink and fleshy, the rancor was enormous.  A single claw from the creature's hand was at least half my height.  I had no desire to become dinner, but we had to get past that thing.

            "I've been able to sneak past it before." Mission said pointedly.

            "Don't even think about it." Carth cut in.

            Mission's lower lip began to jut out as she glared at Carth. 

            "It doesn't matter if you can get past the rancor or not." I interrupted.  "Carth and Zaalbar can't.  We need another plan."

            "Such as?"  Mission raised an eyebrow.

            _That snotty little brat! _ "Do you have any permacrete left?" I asked.

            Mission began rummaging through the satchels on her belt.  Zaalbar also plucked a few things from the ammo clip strapped to his chest.

            "These are not permacrete, but I believe they may be helpful." he said as he handed me two grenades.

            "Thanks, pal."  I turned to Carth.  "How's your throwing arm?"

            "So your plan is just to lob explosives at the rancor?"  Carth gave me an incredulous look.  "What happens if we make this entire tunnel collapse?"

            "Do you have a better idea?" I asked.

            Carth groaned in reply.

            Mission had fished out her remaining permacrete and split it up between Zaalbar and herself.  I gripped a grenade in my sweaty hand.

            "Is everyone ready?"  I waited for their nods.

            I leapt into the room and whistled as loud as I could.  The rancor's head snapped up in attention.  I must have looked pretty tasty because the creature rushed at me.

            "Now!" I screamed.

            On my word, we all pelted the rancor with explosives.  The monster shrieked as the first chucked grenade exploded.  Raw flesh was exposed and the rancor began to frenzy, thrusting its claws about aimlessly.  It charged at me, lead by its open maw.

            Mission must have screamed.  It had to be her.  The voice was too high-pitched to have come from my throat.  I was given a moment, rooted to the ground, to stare at the rancor as his gnashing jaw came closer.

            I hit the ground with a thud.  There was a deafening blast.  My head crashed through a pile of bones and the nerve endings in my tailbone throbbed in agony under the weight of my Wookiee savior.

            Zaalbar rolled off of me and groaned.  Carth ran towards us, Mission on his heels.

            "Are you alright?" he asked.

            "What about the rancor?"  I gingerly touched the back of my head.

            "It's dead." Carth said.

            "Yeah," Mission chimed in.  "Big Z knows how to save the day.  Not only did he knock you out of the way, he managed to toss some permacrete into the rancor's mouth while doing it."

            "Good job." I muttered.  I stood up and brushed myself off.  "Zaalbar?"

            Zaalbar was still on his back, taking controlled breaths.  A long gash grazed his ribs.  Mission immediately fell to her knees at his side.

            "Oh Zaalbar…" she murmured.

            "I will live." he grunted.

            Carth helped Zaalbar to his feet.  I snagged Carth's pack and started sifting through it.  Zaalbar was right, he would live, but a little bacta wouldn't hurt.

            I found the bacta patch and pulled it out.  I tried to gently push Zaalbar's fur out of the way of the wound.  The Wookiee winced and I bit my lip.

            "You saved my life." I said as I haphazardly dressed his wound.

            "Life debt." Zaalbar said simply.

            "Maybe I should swear a life debt to you in thanks." I suggested.

            "Are you mocking me, Rian Vega?" he growled.

            "Not at all."  I put the finishing touches on his bacta patch.  "I'm just unfamiliar with the custom.  I saved you from the Gamorreans and you swore a life debt.  You just saved me from a rancor, shouldn't I do something?"

            "You are alive and that is enough."  Zaalbar turned and headed towards the Vulkar base.


	29. Promised Land

Zaalbar:

            "Enough yapping!  Hand over the accelerator."  Rian spoke quietly, but her hands inches away from her vibroblades betrayed her cool exterior.

            Mission, on the other hand, was fuming and purple-cheeked.  I placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from starting a fray.  I could tell that Carth was tense from the scent of perspiration that emanated from him.

            "Instead of stealing the prototype for the Beks, why don't you come work for us?"  Kandon Ark, the Twi'lek Black Vulkar, spoke in broken Huttese.  "The Black Vulkars could use someone like you."

            Rian licked her cracked lips.  I noticed her hands edge closer to her vibroblades.  I could sense rage laced with panic pulsing between her placid exterior.  So many conflicting emotions.

            I would not wish to see her angry.  The finesse Rian had in her unrefined stance had the markings of a warrior.  If provoked, I was certain that she would be capable of flying into such a berserk frenzy it would make even the angriest Madclaw resemble a petulant cub.

            "Forget it." Rian said.  "I'm not the type to back out of agreements."

            Rian's upper lip twitched at a forming bead of sweat.  I could not decide whether to be insulted or not over her attempted life debt pledge.  Humans were the ones who ravaged Kashyyyk and exploited my people.  Humans were not worthy to uphold my customs.

            "Be smart; Gadon Thek is old news!" Kandon persisted.  "He's a blind fool in more ways than one!  Brejik is a visionary—soon he'll control the entire Lower City!  Don't shackle yourself to the losing team."

            But Rian was worthy enough for me to swear a life debt to.  She heaved a sigh as she unsheathed her blades.  She would have made a fine Wookiee.

            "I guess this means I'm going to have to kill you, huh?"  Rian shot Kandon a regretful look.  I readied my bowcaster.

            Kandon sighed.  "I can see there's not much chance of convincing you to come work for us after all.  Most unfortunate."

            Kandon's bodyguard stepped forward, a rabid smirk on her face.  "Now can I kill them, Kandon?"  The satisfaction in her voice was repulsive.

            "Yes, darling."  Kandon paused for effect.  "Kill them.  Kill them all."

            Rian immediately dove at Kandon's bodyguard.  The female Twi'lek easily parried Rian's attack and sent her sprawling to the ground.  Carth took that opportunity to shoot the bodyguard in the shoulder with his blaster.

            With all the attention on his bodyguard, Kandon Ark was taking his time carefully aiming his blaster.  I threw myself in his way and bludgeoned the side of his skull with my bowcaster.  The blaster bolt that hit Kandon in the cheek seemed to do more damage than my weapon.

            "You shoot things with a bowcaster, Big Z." Mission quipped.  "What are you doing using it as a club?"

            I shrugged.  Carth and Rian had managed to dispatch Kandon's bodyguard.  Rian stalked around the Twi'lek woman's body angrily before spitting at it.

            "Knock me on my arse, will you?" she grumbled.

            "Are you okay?" Mission asked her.

            "The only thing that she damaged was her ego." Carth replied.

            Rian scowled while Carth laughed.

            "That must be a human thing, huh?"  Mission turned to me.

            "Hey, we're not so different, remember?" Rian protested.  "After all, I'm just a maimed Twi'lek."

            Mission's jaw worked furiously, but no words would come out.  She finally let loose a peculiar laugh.

            Rian stepped over the fresh corpses and headed towards the back of the room.  The prototype accelerator stood in the rear, unobtrusively.  Rian bent down and ran a finger over the top.  She seemed satisfied with what she found and proceeded to try and lift it.  Her cheeks puffed out with exertion and her face was colored darkly.

            I stepped in front of Carth and picked up the accelerator.

            "I don't even know why I bother…" Rian muttered.  "Come on, the sooner we get this to Gadon, the better."

            On the way to the Lower City, Rian stopped us at the Outcast Village.  She headed directly towards the old man, Rukil, and handed him a datapad.

            Rukil began to rave that she was the chosen one, a savior of sorts.  With his withered hands he pulled Rian towards a cooking fire.  In his excitement, Rukil lost his breath as troubled words left his mouth. 

            The old man wove a story of a safe haven from Rakghouls as he scanned the information in the datapad.  He spoke of a self-sufficient colony with droid servants where the Outcasts could finally live worry-free.

            I stepped forward when I noticed the uncomfortable look on Rian's face.  I couldn't comprehend why she would have willingly entered into a distressing situation.  Humans are strange, I suppose.

            Rian made a quick hand signal to let me know that she was alright.  Behind me, Carth glared at the elderly human.  I felt fingers curl around the hair on my back and I looked down at Mission and smiled.

            "This guy is super creepy." she whispered.

            I nodded.  Rian seemed to have finished her business with him and was walking back towards us.

            "Let's get out of here." she muttered.  Without waiting for a response, Rian trekked towards the elevator.

            "What was that all about?" Carth asked.

            Rian stopped walking and seemed to consider her answer for a moment.  Finally, she cocked her head to one side and spoke.  "Do you think a Promised Land exists?"

            Mission giggled immediately.  Carth shook his head.

            "It sounds like a myth to me." he said.  "Something to give the people here some false hope to cling to so they don't go mad with despair."

            "It's just a fairy tale." Mission declared.

            Rian nodded slowly.  "That's what I figured."  She frowned as she started to walk to the elevators.

            The ascent to the Lower City began in silence.  Mission busied herself with toying with a loose string on her vest; Carth appeared fascinated by a dent in the floor.  Rian kept to herself, rifling through the contents of her pockets.

            "It could exist." I told her.

            Rian glanced up at me.  "And I could be a Sith Lord too." she replied dryly.

            I shrunk back to my respective corner of the elevator.  Rian shook her head and went back to her pockets, but the frown had left her face so I was satisfied.

            When the elevator stopped at the Lower City, I hauled the accelerator out.  Mission hopped through the door and stretched her arms.

            "Hey, Mission."

            Mission twisted her head to face Rian.  "Uh huh?"

            "How good are you at pazaak?" Rian asked.

            Mission gave a mischievous grin.  "Are you interested in playing a hand?"

            "That good, huh?"  Rian chuckled.  "I was just thinking that maybe you could win some extra credits playing in the cantinas while we set up this accelerator nonsense."

            "No problem."  Mission's eyes lit up.  "Could you spare a few credits so I could make some good bets?"

            "I expected as much."  Rian dug some credits from her pockets.  "Zaalbar, I want you to go with Mission just in case someone figures out that she's a cheat."

            Mission scowled.  "What makes you think I cheat?" she demanded.

            "Call it a hunch."  Rian winked as she handed Mission some credits.  "I wouldn't want to play against you."

              I handed the accelerator off to Carth and grinned as I heard him grunt under the weight of it.  Mission stalked off towards the cantina, grumbling about being an honest player. I followed close behind.  No one would harm her so long as I was living.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          


	30. Broken Bonds

Bastila:

_            Urge it slowly, gently. Push the ribbon slowly into itself and watch it revert into nothingness and—_

            I was startled by my own gasp.  Cold sweat clung to my limbs and my knees were buckling.  I was conscious!  I was the master of my body again.

            It was dark, but the only breathing I could hear was my own.  I allowed myself to slide to my knees, sucking air in desperately.  Calm, I tried to soothe myself, you are free.  _Free!_

            I jerked the neural disruptor from my head immediately.  It clattered against the floor of my prison aimlessly.  Now I had to figure out a way to escape.

            I attempted to force the bars of my prison apart.  I was immediately struck with a wave of dizzying pain.  Too soon, I must have still been suffering from the affects of the neural disruptor.  But I couldn't just wait for the Black Vulkars to realize that I was here and fully conscious.

            I tried one more time and was hit with agony.  Thousands of needles were being driven into the base of my skull.  I had to come up with a plan and quick.

            I picked up that wretched crown.  I ran my fingers around the inside of the disruptor and snapped off one of the mechanisms.  I would have to wear that blasted thing again until I could heal myself.

            _As long as it is broken, it can't hurt you_, I told myself silently.  I dropped the disruptor back on my head.  Nothing.  I heaved a sigh of relief.  I stood and leaned against the side of my prison.

            I began to coax the outside world into disappearing.  Opened up to be embraced by the Force, I slipped into a healing trance.

            _There is no emotion; there is peace.  There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.  There is no chaos; there is humility.  There is no passion; there is serenity.  There is no darkness; there is the light.  There is no death; there is the Force.  I am Bastila Shan, the Force fights with me and all others will tremble…_


	31. A Moment of Truth

Carth:

            One sniff from the aloof guard and we were allowed entry into the Bek base.  Rian strolled ahead of me while I struggled with the weight of the accelerator.

            Gadon Thek was in his usual spot behind a desk tinkering with some new swoop bike gears.  His bodyguard, Zaerdra was hovering over him protectively.  As she caught sight of us, her mouth became set in a frown.

            Gadon looked up from his work and scanned the area with his white bionic eyes.  He offered us a smile and ushered us forward with a hand.

            "I was beginning to wonder if you would make it."  The gang leader smiled.  "The race is tomorrow and my mechanics need time to install the prototype into the swoop engine of our bike."

            The gang leader whistled and two Hidden Beks ran over to him.  A few quick words from Gadon and they hurried over to me and relieved me of the accelerator.

            "Okay, I lived up to my end of the deal."  Rian planted both of her hands on the desk and brought her face inches away from Gadon so that despite the man's damaged vision he would have no trouble seeing her.  "Now you better come through."

            Gadon laughed.  "Don't worry." he assured her.  "I'm a man of my word.  I promised you could ride in the swoop race under the Hidden Bek banner and I'm still going to let you do that."

            The blind man smiled coyly.  "I'm even going to go one better."  He paused long enough for the sound of Rian's grinding teeth to be heard.  "I'm going to let you ride the swoop bike with the prototype accelerator installed in it.  Without it, you won't stand a chance."

            "Gadon!  You can't be serious!" Zaerdra exploded.  Her lekku twitched in an agitated fashion until received a stern glare from Rian.  Zaerdra settled her head-tails stiffly against her shoulders and continued.  "We need one of our best riders on that bike!  We can't let some rookie take the prototype engine into the race!"

            Rian seemed to consider Zaerdra's furious stare before speaking.  "Why are you doing this, Gadon?" she asked.

            "I have to be honest with you—there's a reason why I'm letting you take the prototype engine." Gadon said.  He shuffled beneath his desk until he produced a datapad.  "The accelerator isn't stable; there's a good chance it could explode during the race.  I can't ask one of my own riders to take the risk—they'll be running unmodified swoops in the race."

            Gadon handed the datapad to Rian.  She looked it over slowly before nodding.

            "Sounds like you've got all your bases covered." she said wryly.

            Gadon chuckled.  "You don't get to be the leader of a swoop gang if you don't know how to work all the angles." he replied.

            "I still think that I should be the one to ride the swoop bike." I interjected.

            Zaerdra's frosty visage fell on me while Gadon simply raised an eyebrow.  I swallowed hard, but pressed on.

            "I'm a pilot, I've controlled bigger crafts than a swoop bike—what does she know about flying anything?"

            Any agreement that would have come out of Rian was decimated by my final persuasive sentence.  The withering look she gave me made me wish I had just gnawed my tongue off instead.

            Gadon shook his head.  "That's like comparing alcoari and cloudberries." he explained.  "You're speaking of two completely different machines with completely different qualifications.  Your friend here has the look of a rider about her.  Trust me."

            I would shoot the next person who demanded that I trust them.  I glanced at Rian.

            "I can do this." she said quietly.

            I groaned.

            "You can stay here tonight." Gadon offered.  "Just try to relax and in the morning we'll take you to the swoop track."

            Gadon whistled again and another Hidden Bek appeared out of the woodwork.  We were shown to a room that fortunately had two beds and told the location of the kitchen in case we got hungry.

            When the Bek left, Rian circled the room slowly, inspecting it.  She finally stopped at one of the beds and tested it out with a hand before sitting on it.

            "It's about as good as the one in the apartment." her tone was conversational.

            "I wouldn't know." I muttered.  I dropped down onto my own mattress.

            Rian frowned.  "Hey, I offered to share.  It's not my fault you didn't take me up on it."

            "Would you accept an invitation from a kinrath into its web?" I replied.  I began working on the laces of my boots to avoid looking at the color gathering in her cheeks.

            "It doesn't matter anyway." she said.  "I'll win you your little Jedi savior dame tomorrow and then you two can go on your merry ways and I can go on mine."

            "What?" I tore one boot off.  I looked up at her but her face was solid, resolved.

            "I mean it, Carth." Rian insisted.  "I'm no hero.  Once we get Bastila, my work's done."

            "Just like that?" I snorted.  "What will you do afterwards?"

            "I figured I would stay here on Taris."  She sighed.  "Start up smuggling again, maybe head to Corellia."  Her nose crinkled.  "Don't look at me like that."

            "Like what?"

            "Like I've got the Iridian plague or something."  Rian pulled her knees into her chest.  "I've made up my mind.  I'm staying on Taris.  You can go off and do your Republic thing and find somebody else to look at strangely when you think they're not paying attention."

            "I haven't been looking at you strangely…" I began.

            "Oh you haven't?" she interrupted.  "I would have assumed that I sprouted an extra limb from the way you've been staring at me since we killed that rancor in the sewers."

            "I wasn't staring." I argued.

            "Was it gawking then?" she demanded.  "Ogling?" 

            "You nearly got yourself killed!" I bellowed.

            Rian's onslaught stopped.  Her jaw hung loose for a moment before she composed herself.  She cleared her throat consciously before returning her hard gaze on me.

            "Don't you realize how important you are?" I persisted.  I wrenched the second boot from my foot and tossed it on the floor.  "_You_ are the one with the indebted Wookiee, not me.  Mission got _you_ past the Vulkar force field, not me.  _You_ are the one who is going to rescue Bastila tomorrow, not me.  But you still think it's perfectly logical to jump in front of a rancor.  Do you understand now?"

            "You don't want your tool broken." she whispered.  Rian rolled onto her side and started to play with her blankets.

            "It's not that."  I groaned.  I don't even know why I bothered telling her anything.  She always managed to twist my words.  I should have just admitted to being an idiot and move on from there.

            "I thought you were going to die back there." I said.  "If Zaalbar didn't get there in time—"

            "But he did." Rian cut in curtly. 

            "I couldn't." I continued.  "You were too far away.  I couldn't reach you in time to save you.  If it wasn't for Zaalbar I don't know what would have happened."

            Rian sighed.  "You should probably try to get to sleep.  It's going to be a big day tomorrow."

            "Yeah.  You're right."  I flicked the light off.  "Are you sure you don't want me to race in your place?"

            "I'll be fine." she assured me.  "I've got a few tricks that should help me out tomorrow."

            "Somehow, that doesn't sound comforting."  I smirked.

            Rian laughed softly.  "Good night."


	32. Rescue?

Rian:

            _Let's cut this wire and detach that hose, it's not like those swoop jockeys will miss anything…_  I tip-toed away from the swoop bike cautiously, then noting that I was in the clear, strolled away casually.  So it was cheating?  I was sabotaging every racer's bike save for my own, I wasn't picking and choosing so it was fair in a sense.

            I was just thankful that there was enough time for me to make my "adjustments."  I overslept and had to rush to the tracks without breakfast.  Not that I would have eaten breakfast, I preferred my slop to be cooked at the very least.  My stomach growled furiously to remind me that I was miserable and I smothered it with a hand.

            Maybe I would be able to sneak in a quick little nap between races if I was lucky.  Not that it would help.  Every time I closed my eyes it seemed like another nightmare would spring up.  Now that they were consistently showing up every night, they were becoming bizarre.

            _I couldn't reach you in time to save you.  If it wasn't for Zaalbar I don't know what would have happened._

            It was bad enough when the only nighttime phantoms that haunted me were the hooded wonder and his fantastically endowed lightsaber-wielding girlfriend.  When did Carth decide to start popping up in there?  I certainly didn't give him permission.

            I could only recall snippets of the dream, it was different from the usual fare that I had on the bridge of some mystery ship.  I had long hair.  Long golden blonde hair.  I felt taller too, but I guess dreams can be like that.  Carth was there, but far away and I distinctly remember being struck with the sudden awareness that I really didn't belong there.

            Maybe it had something to do with the escape pod crash; I really should talk to Zelka Forn about that.  My memory was completely frazzled.  I had thought long and hard the night before, but realized that despite growing up on Deralia, I wouldn't be able to pick the planet out on a map of the galaxy.  Did I have a family, for that matter?

            _…Mother will protect you…_

            There was just something unsettling about that persistent memory.  Mother will protect me, huh?  Where was she when I stowed away on a ship that was supposed to be heading to Coruscant and ended up on Ryloth by mistake?

            Maybe it was the lullaby that accompanied it that bothered me the most.  Mother will protect you and that eerie melody.  I hadn't heard it duplicated so far, but I was convinced if I heard that melancholy mezzo soprano vocal line things would start making sense.  Wouldn't they?

            It was pointless to keep badgering myself with questions that I didn't have the answers to.  I had work to do.  To think, that this all started because Carth had the nerve to show up in my dreams.  I bet he'd find that amusing, not that I'd tell him.

            It didn't matter.  The swoop race had started.  A Duros standing behind the registration desk grabbed a microphone and began his announcements.

            I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying.  A combination of the exhaustion and jumble of memories and nightmares were taking their toll.  I stifled a yawn with the back of my hand and waited for the first racer's heat.

            His swoop bike spluttered and made its way to the finish line gradually.  The next bike refused to start.  I wasn't much of a mechanic, I've fooled around a bit with droids, but I've always left the bigger toys alone.  Some bikes billowed noxious fumes, others had lost control of their steering, it was just a matter of what I randomly chose to cut, misplace or fill with caffa.

            No bike was safe from my malicious wandering hands.  To avoid suspicion I rigged some Hidden Bek bikes as well.  Distrustful glares were shared between Bek and Vulkar riders, but as far as I could tell, I wasn't in question.

            Curiosity got the best of me as I wandered towards the prize display.  The Hidden Beks had offered up some trinket, I wouldn't be surprised if it was Gadon Thek's eyes, tucked away in a box.  But what really caught my interest was the cage hauled in by the Black Vulkars.  So that was Bastila, huh?

            I think my lungs imploded.  Deep mahogany braids were brushed over her milky white shoulders. 

            "Not possible…"  It felt like my intestines were in the process of strangling my liver.

            Of all the people, how could that be Bastila?  She couldn't be—she wasn't supposed to exist.  It was just a nightmare.  But there I was, staring at cloaked boy's fantastically endowed lightsaber-wielding girlfriend.  Granted, her bland Jedi robes had been replaced with a chain metal bustier and skin tight leather pants, but it was her.  There was a part of me that just wanted to just head back to the apartment and screw it.

            Too late.  At the urging of an Ithorian, I suited up for my turn.  I strapped my helmet on tight; of course it was a size too big so I wasn't too confident in any protection it might provide.  When I had the elbow pads on snugly, I grudgingly handed over my vibroblades to the Ithorian, promising a painful death if they were to be damaged.

            Once I was in the bike, I fidgeted in the seat uncomfortably.  Steering wheel there, gas pedal here and the brake, very important brake located.  I guess I was as ready as I'd ever be.

            When the timer started, I slammed my foot on the gas and the engine roared to life.  The bike was horrifically loud and I was thankful for it; it's pretty difficult to maintain a reputation under normal circumstances, but when you're squealing at the top of your lungs it's damn near impossible.

            It was over soon enough.  I pried myself off the seat, my legs weren't as wobbly as I expected them to be, which was a plus.  I took note of my time and grinned.  Child's play.

            My time was quickly demoted a place by the next driver.  The smile died on my face as I saw Redros, Black Vulkar Sithspawn extraordinaire, celebrating.  Funny, I couldn't recall skipping over his bike.

            One more heat, that's all I needed.  All I could afford, really.  I had no intentions of leaving this world in a fiery blaze caused by an overworked swoop bike engine.  It was time to gather my wits, concentrate, make use of skill rather than a cheating edge.  Damn it!

            I slid back into the uncomfortable metal seat of the bike.  The timer countdown began and I tried to prepare myself.  I could do this.  _Breathe in, breathe out…_

            I don't quite remember what happened directly after that.  It felt like a wave of brilliant white light stabbed me in the brain.  Maybe missing out on breakfast caused me to black out.  I just know that I blinked and was at the end of my heat.  Weird.

            I crawled from the bike and fumbled at the helmet on my head.  My mouth fell into a foolish grin as I stared at the new top score.  I don't know how I pulled it off, but I shaved ten seconds off of Redros' score.  Take that, laser-brain!

            More riders tried to top my score, Redros included, with little luck.  I stood back and ran a hand through my matted down helmet-hair.  All I had to do was wait for the day to be over.

            As the racing came to a close, the registration Duros pulled his microphone out again.  He puffed his chest out, full of self-importance as he announced the race's winner.

            "Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the winner of this year's swoop race!"  He pointed a hand in my direction.  "Put your hands together and show your appreciation for one of the most daring riders this track has ever seen!"

            The crowd hollered and whistled as I nodded my head_.  Just give me the prize and get it over with!_

            "Through your skill and courage you have proven yourself the premier swoop rider on Taris and brought great glory to the Hidden Bek gang!" he continued.  "Now, here to present the champion's prize, Brejik, leader of the Black Vulkars."

            The din got noticeably quieter as Brejik stepped forward.  Some Hidden Bek members went so far as to boo.  I grinned uncomfortably.

            Brejik maintained his calm in the volatile mass of people.  He had the look of cold confidence about him as he flashed me a look.  I glared back, raising an eyebrow at his black beady eyes.

            He cleared his throat.  "People, hear me!" he began.  "Before I present the so-called champion of the Beks with their prize there is something you must know.  The winning rider cheated!"

            "You're a damn liar, Brejik!" I bellowed.  I guess my stealth and sabotage skills were rustier than I thought.

            "Your swoop bike was using a prototype accelerator." Brejik accused.  "Clearly, an unfair advantage!"

            Accelerator?  I started laughing.  What an idiot!  My giggling seemed to infuriate Brejik.  He raised a finger into the air as if it were a weapon of sorts.

            "Because of this Hidden Bek treachery, I'm withdrawing the Vulkar's share of the victory prize!" he declared.

            "You can't do this, Brejik!" the Duros argued.  "You know the rules.  Nobody's allowed to withdraw a victory prize after the race.  It goes against our most sacred traditions!"

            "You old fool!" Brejik sneered.  "Your traditions mean nothing to me—I am the wave of the future!  If I want to withdraw the prize and sell the woman into the slave market myself, nobody can stop me!"

            "I might have something to say about that, Brejik!"

            Any expulsion of diabolical laughter was caught in Brejik's throat.  He spun around to see his prize throw open the door of her cage and dispatch her guard.

            "What?" he spluttered.  "Impossible!  You were restrained by a neural disruptor!  How could you have possibly summoned the will to free yourself?"

            Bastila seemed to glide over to her unconscious guard.  She offered Brejik a cruel smile as she plucked the double-bladed vibrosword from the guard's hands.

            "You underestimated the strength of a Jedi's mind, Brejik." she stated simply.  "A mistake you won't live to regret!"

            The initial shock had worn off of Brejik.  His narrowed eyes spoke of death as he raised his arm into the air.  "Vulkars to me!" he commanded.  "Kill this woman!  Kill the swoop rider!  Kill them all!"

            Because that dolt couldn't keep his leash on a Jedi, he wanted to kill me?  Give me a break.  I grabbed for my vibroblades.  They weren't there.

            I was hit with a wave of panic, until I remembered that I left them with that Ithorian.  I glanced around the tracks until I caught sight of him.  The alien was waddling away from the blaster toting gang members as fast as possible.

            "Hey!" I cried out.  I ran after him, but he didn't stop.  "Hey!"  That jerk was going to get me killed!

            At a full sprint I was catching up to him, but I had to slow him down.  A blaster bolt whizzed past my face and I stopped thinking.  I took my helmet and threw it at the Ithorian.  It clocked him in the back of the head and he pitched forward.

            "What did I tell you about my vibroblades?" I demanded as I wrenched my weapons from his grasp.

            "S… sorry." he stammered.

            "Now get out of here!" I hissed.

            I stood up in time to impale a Black Vulkar on my blade.  He dropped his blaster as he fell to the ground.  Didn't these guys realize that they could make long ranged assaults with blasters?

            I ignored the random gang members, the Jedi dame seemed like she was having no problems mowing them down, and headed straight for Brejik.  Brejik appeared to be occupied with screaming at his incompetent lackeys, so I'd have a clean hit at the back of his skull.

            Of course, whatever scoundrel's luck I fancied myself to have decided to crap out on me at that moment.  Brejik turned to face me, his blaster in hand.

            I screamed as I slid to my rear to avoid the shot meant for my eyes.  The smell of burnt hair was in the air and I swore, landing a boot in Brejik's groin.

            That distracted the core-slime enough to keep him from blasting a hole into my chest.  As it was, the shot went wild, ripping into my shoulder.

            I raised my vibroblade to deal the killing blow only to see a vibrosword tear into Brejik's windpipe.  Bastila bent over the fresh corpse and began to clean her blade on his shirt.  I was suddenly aware of the searing pain in my shoulder.

            "Well, maybe those bloody Vulkars will think twice next time before trying to keep a Jedi prisoner." she said, inspecting her weapon.  "As for you, if you think you can collect me as a prize…"

            As her cornflower blue eyes locked with mine, her mouth gaped open for a fleeting second.  I gathered myself up and started to stand.

            "Wait… I don't believe this!" Bastila murmured.  "You're one of the soldiers with the Republic fleet, aren't you?  Yes, I'm sure of it.  How did you end up racing for these swoop gangs?"

            I groaned as I tested out my shoulder.  "It's a long story."

            "Well we don't have time for it now."  Her haughty full lips twisted into a frown.  "We have to get out of here before the Sith show up to sort out this mess.  Is there somewhere safe we can go?"

            Who the hell did that ungrateful, over-inflated lady think she was?  I ground my teeth together.

            "Slow down just a minute." I ordered.  "I'm in charge here.  Remember, I saved you!"

            "Save me?" Bastila laughed. 

            I suppose my ears should have felt blessed for such an unearthly sound.  My eyes narrowed as a rabid fury began to pulse through me, keeping tempo with my throbbing shoulder.

            "Is that what you were trying to accomplish by riding in that swoop race?" she asked.  "Well, as far as rescues go this is a pretty poor example.  In case you hadn't noticed, I managed to free myself from that neural restraint without your help.  In fact, it's more accurate to say that I saved you!"  Bastila offered a snide smile before she continued with her tirade.  "Brejik and his Vulkars would have left you for dead if I hadn't stepped into the fight.  You're lucky I was here to get you out of this mess!"

            If she had anything else to say, I wasn't listening.  I was already storming away towards the elevators to the Upper City.

            "We don't have time for this." I grumbled.  "Carth is waiting for us."

            "Carth Onasi is alive?"  The instant recognition in her voice grated on my nerves.  "Finally some good news!"

            Rian Vega sticks her neck out to save a worthless Jedi hide and she gets scolded like a ding-bat, but Carth Onasi is safe hiding in his little apartment and that's good news?  The day was definitely not going as I had planned it.  I guess it didn't really matter, my job was done.

            I heard the clip of Bastila's stiletto boots as she started to follow me.  I didn't know that they taught Jedi to wear those things.

            "He sent you to save me?"  She sounded reluctant.  "Maybe I misjudged you.  Carth wouldn't have sent you if he wasn't confident in your… abilities."

            I stopped and crossed my arms.  The wound in my shoulder screamed to life again as my arms twisted into each other.  I bit my lip.  I wouldn't wince.  Not while she was watching me.

            "Forgive me, despite my Jedi training, I still tend to act a bit rashly sometimes."  Bastila forced a warm smile to her lips.  "Please take me to Carth right away.  Between the three of us I'm sure we can figure out some way to get off this planet before the Sith realize we're here."

            "Yeah, whatever." I muttered.  _Next time she opens her mouth I hope she chokes on her tongue, _I thought_._  Yes, Bastila and I were going to be real good friends.


	33. First Kiss

Bastila:

            "I might have something to say about that, Brejik!"

            I made a mental note to burn that look of absolute shock and horror into my memory.  That was the face of someone who had overstepped his bounds.

            I used the Force to push the door of my cage open and landed a kick firmly into the base of the nearest Black Vulkar's skull.

            "What?  Impossible!"  The condescension in Brejik's voice cracked for a moment, displaying his weakness.  "You were restrained by a neural disruptor!  How could you have possibly summoned the will to free yourself?"

            I knelt over the unconscious gang member and freed him of his weapon.  A double-bladed vibrosword, not a lightsaber, but if would be effective nonetheless.

            "You underestimated the strength of a Jedi's mind, Brejik.  A mistake you won't live to regret!" 

            A smile happened across my mouth but I quickly suppressed it.  I would kill, but only because I had no other choice.  It was one of the responsibilities that came with defending the less fortunate, it was not something to be taken lightly, or enjoyed.  No, it was merely the duty at the moment.

            "Vulkars to me!"  Brejik's voice was shrill.  "Kill this woman!  Kill the swoop rider!  Kill them all!"

            Brejik fired his blaster into the air and the crowd exploded into chaos.  Spectators scrambled frantically out of harm's way, trampling others in their frenzy to escape.  I found it unsettling that one person could be the cause of so much destruction.

            I wasted no time in dealing with the first Black Vulkar to come my way.  I thrust my blade into his belly and twisted upwards.  It was just me against three more and Brejik.  The swoop jockey, whoever she was, had taken off in a full sprint.  I could have sworn that she sounded familiar, but it didn't matter at the moment, Vulkar number one thought he could best me.

            He lunged at me, vibroblade first.  What kind of idiot's game was this?  I knocked his blade out of the way and watched as he hurtled himself against my sword.  Just in time too, because I was able to pivot his body around to block a blaster shot that number two intended for me.

            I tapped into my telekinesis to fling goon number two into a wall.  His head hit the wall with a sickening thud and he slid to the ground limply.

            That left Vulkar number three and Brejik.  I stared directly into the eyes of the third and final gangster and raised an eyebrow.  The Black Vulkar swallowed hard, raised his blaster, thought better of it, turned and ran.

            It was time to deal with Brejik.  The swoop gang leader was already occupied.  Perhaps it was some unfortunate passerby that he had decided to torment for his own pleasure.  I ran forward and ended his life quickly.  Brejik would never harm another person again.

            "Well, maybe those bloody Vulkars will think twice next time before trying to keep a Jedi prisoner!" I muttered.  For some reason it seemed fitting that I would clean my blade on Brejik's shirt as he had done to me what seemed like ages ago.

            A quick glance proved that Brejik's victim was none other than the winning swoop rider.  I finished cleaning the vibrosword and stood up.

            "As for you," I warned.  "if you think you can collect me as a prize…"

            I glared into the rider's eyes to ensure that I would be understood.  She stared back with those tilted violet eyes of hers and I felt my stomach churn violently.

            Rian Vega stood up, relying heavily on her left arm.  She was no less grimy and sweat stained than she was when I had first met her, but considerably less fragile in appearance.  Unfortunately, I still felt as though I had swallowed a ball of lead and was uncertain if I would ever be able feel differently when that petite woman's eyes fell on me.

            "Wait… I don't believe this."  My eyes fluttered away from her.  "You're one of the soldiers with the Republic fleet, aren't you?"  No, I had more discipline than to be defeated by the mere presence of this woman.  I forced myself to look at her.  "Yes, I'm sure of it.  How did you end up racing for these swoop gangs?"

            "It's a long story." Rian groaned.  She rolled her right shoulder around gently in its socket. 

            She had taken a hit to her shoulder while fighting Brejik and just by looking at it, I could tell that it was fairly deep.  Reaching out to her with the Force, I attempted to view the wound through Rian's perspective and I received an intense image of searing hot pain.  But what perhaps disturbed me the most, was the grin she gave me, a sly twisted thing to be shared between comrades only.

            "Well we don't have time for it now." I cut her off.  "We have to get out of here before the Sith show up to sort out this mess.  Is there somewhere safe we can go?"

            "Slow down a minute." Rian barked.  "I'm in charge here.  Remember, I saved you!"

            I should have suspected that Rian would want to be in charge.  I had to put her in her place and fast before things got out of hand.

            "Save me?  Is that what you were trying to accomplish by riding in that swoop race?"  I bit out a clipped laugh.  "Well, as far as rescues go this is a pretty poor example.  In case you hadn't noticed, I managed to free myself from that neural disruptor without your help."

            Rian's face scrunched up in a livid fury.  Her eyes blazed into mine and I smiled through gritted teeth as I continued.

            "In fact, it's more accurate to say that I saved you!  Brejik and his Vulkars would have left you for dead if I hadn't stepped into the fight.  You're lucky I was here to get you out of this mess!"

            Rian snorted and turned on her heels.  She stalked away from me, her injured arm hanging limply.

            "We don't have time for this." she spat, almost as an afterthought.  "Carth is waiting for us."

            So Rian wasn't by herself.  Carth Onasi was an honored and well-reputed soldier.  A good man, albeit he liked his caffa with far too much sugar.  If Rian was working with Carth, there was no way a man of his caliber would let her boss him around.  That thought calmed my frayed nerves as I ran to catch up with Rian.

            "Carth Onasi is alive?  Finally some good news!"  I let trained warmth filter into my voice.  I expected Rian to be astute, but she lacked training, so I doubt she picked up on it.

            Rian didn't stop.  If anything, my mention of Carth's name made her speed up her step.  I had presumed several things regarding that woman's reputation, but for her to behave like a petulant toddler was not one of them.

            "He sent you to save me?"  If I had to work with her, so be it.  "Maybe I misjudged you.  Carth wouldn't have sent you if he wasn't confident in your… abilities."

            Rian finally stopped.  She turned to give me a bland look as she crossed her arms.  I could vaguely sense a wave of blinding agony emanating from Rian's shoulder.  My stomach heaved cruelly.

            "Forgive me, despite my Jedi training, I still tend to act a bit rashly sometimes."  I tried to offer her a smile, but I couldn't look at her.  "Please take me to Carth right away.  Between the three of us I'm sure we can figure out some way to get off this planet before the Sith realize we're here."

            "Yeah whatever." Rian grunted.  She trudged forward, not bothering to see if I followed or not.

            Rian kept herself several feet from me until we reached an elevator.  Once inside, she leaned against the wall opposite me.  She busied herself with rotating her shoulder again.

            "You're hurt." I said.

            "I'll live." she replied.

            "It looks bad." I prodded.

            "Let me worry about it." Rian snapped.  Her eyes flashed dangerously, like a cornered animal.

            "I could help." I offered.

            "You've got bigger problems than my busted shoulder."  Rian smiled darkly.  "Like how you're going to reach the apartment in the Upper City without being recognized by a Sith trooper."

            "You are in dire need of advice when it comes to rescues." I retorted, but I could feel the muscles in my shoulders and neck stiffen.

            "Take your hair down."  Rian gave me a considering look.

            "What?"

            "Take you hair down." she repeated.

            "Why?" I demanded.

            "Well, you're already dressed up like a trollop, so that's what you'll be."

            "I beg your pardon!"

            Rian groaned and reached for one of my braids with her left hand.  Despite my protesting, she tore the bands around my braids free from my hair.

            "I guess we should be grateful I look like a little boy." she grumbled.  "Here's our story, I scrounged up enough credits from Daddy to pay you to make me a man."

            "I hardly see how any of this is necessary." I protested.

            "Your hair's down, so you can use it to cover your face from a distance." Rian continued.  "But you need to stay close to me in case a Sith guard comes near enough to identify you.  If that happens, I'm going to pull you into a _lover's embrace_ of sorts and you're going to like it.  Got me?"

            "I don't like this at all."  A wave of heat swept over my face and I shook my head.

            "Do you have a better idea, doll?" Rian asked as she wrapped her left arm around my waist.

            I tried to shove her away, but the door opened.  Rian pulled me out of the elevator as she sang a vile drinking song loudly.  She proceeded to drag me through the streets of Upper City Taris to what I hoped would be a quiet apartment.

            In the midst of my struggling, Rian stopped abruptly.  She nuzzled her cheek into my shoulder and announced, "What's the matter, darling?  You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."

            "Do you honestly know all the words to that blasted song?" I demanded when I was finally able to gather my wits.

            "Not really." she admitted.  "But it usually works just fine when I use 'ferglutz' in place of the missing words."

            "What does that mean?"

            "It's Quarren." Rian explained.  "It's just a fancy way to say 'damn it'."

            With her mad antics, Rian managed to get us from one side of the Upper City to the other without incident.  I kept tugging at my hair consciously until Rian pointed out the apartment complex.  I breathed a sigh and hurried towards it.

            "Hey!" Rian called after me.  "Hey!"

            I was not in the mood to play her little games anymore.  The apartment was right there, all I had to do was step through the doors and I would be safe.

            Rian ran in front of me cutting me off.  Just in time, apparently, as I caught a glimpse of silver-white armor looming behind her and stopped in my tracks.

            "Sith!" she hissed in my direction.  Then she bellowed loudly, "Sugar bottoms!  Don't go running off on me!"

            Before I could scowl, Rian reached up and grabbed me by both of my ears.  She walked her back into a wall and jerked my head towards hers.  My lips fell limp against her own as I stood there frozen in horror.  After a few seconds that lasted far too long, I heard a muffled sound.  Was she laughing at me?


	34. The Leader

Carth:

            "Hey, geezer!  You're going to wear a hole into the floor if you keep pacing like that!"  Mission's voice jarred me from my thoughts.

            I looked over my shoulder to see her sitting on the bed with a datapad in her lap.  I guess beneath her smirk there was a semblance of concern.  I sighed.

            "You're probably right." I admitted.  "I just wish I knew what was going on down there."

            "I'm sure Rian'll fill you in on all the gory details if you let her." Mission said.  "She'll be back soon."

            "How do you know?" I asked.

            "I looked at the clock." she replied.  "Races don't take that long.  What's this damaged Morgana file you've got in here?"

            "Don't you know enough to leave other people's datapads alone?" I snapped.  I stormed over and snatched the datapad from her hands.

            Mission's lekku twitched.  "Well, what else am I supposed to do?" she demanded.  "I can't play pazaak by myself."

            "Why don't you play with your Wookiee friend?" I suggested.  I closed the datapad and slid it into the top drawer of the bureau.

            "Big Z's not really a good loser." Mission guffawed.  "I don't want him dangling me by my ankle if I win too often."

            Zaalbar roared something and nodded his head.

            "Well, maybe you could try to teach me Shyriiwook." I suggested.  "Frankly, I'm finding it very frustrating that I can't understand anything Zaalbar says."

            Mission shot Zaalbar a sidelong glance before giggling.  "I guess I could try.  What do you say, Big Z?"

            The Wookiee gave a perturbed snarl.

            "What did he say?" I asked.

            "Zaalbar doesn't think you have what it takes."  Mission's smile extended to both her Tchin and Tchun.

            "Let me be the judge of that." I retorted.  "Let's start with something basic.  How do you say 'yes?' "

            Zaalbar snorted derisively.  Mission bit down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing again.  Her face purpled with exertion.

            "I take it he said something other than what I asked." I stated dryly.

            Mission nodded.

            "Well, if he doesn't say what I'd like him to, you could just translate what he does say instead." I offered.

            "What do you say, Big Z?" Mission asked.

            The Wookiee glared at the girl, his mouth shut.  Mission groaned and hopped off the bed.  She trotted over to Zaalbar and jabbed him in the ribs.  The Wookiee remained silent, although his glare darkened.  Mission began to poke him incessantly.

            Zaalbar initially maintained his calm.  Every finger that landed in his ribs, however, began to wear at him.  The Wookiee's nostrils twitched, and I noticed his upper lip quivering.  There was a part of me that wanted to tell Mission to leave him alone, but deep down, I knew she wouldn't listen.

            Zaalbar blinked slowly.  His chest expanded to its fullest capacity.  Maybe he was taking deep breaths and counting to ten.  He of all people should know how to deal with Mission's antics by now.

            I was nearly knocked from my feet by the world shattering roar that erupted from Zaalbar.  Mission's lekku wilted and the color drained from her face as the Wookiee gnashed his teeth and snarled.

            Zaalbar howled one last time and threw his arms up into the air.  He stormed past Mission into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.  Mission looked up at me sheepishly.

            "Do you want that translated?" she asked.

            "Why not." I sighed.

            "He just started raving about how he'd give his life for you, but refused to teach you his language." she explained.  "Something to do with honor."

            "He can keep his honor." I muttered.  "I just wish I knew what he was saying without a translator."

            Mission joined me over by the bureau.  She opened a package of caffa beans silently.

            "Making caffa?" I asked.

            "Do you want some?"  Mission poured the beans into the filter.

            "Sure."  I leaned up against the wall.

            Mission flicked the 'on' switch.  My mind trailed off after the drone coming from the caffa maker.

            "Carth, can I talk to you for a second."  Mission regarded me with her dark blue eyes.

            I snorted and pulled myself back to reality.  "It depends.  Is this going to turn into another tantrum?"

            Mission's face scrunched up in fury.  "Tantrum?" she blurted out.  "I'm trying to apologize about last time, you nerf-herder!  Uh…"

            Her face fell slack while her eyes darted around the apartment.  Mission was a good kid, she just needed to learn how to control her outbursts.  Maybe she'd grow into it.

            "I mean, I'm sorry." she murmured.  Mission began to concentrate on pouring herself a cup of caffa.  "I didn't mean to get mad at you.  It's just that I'm sick of everyone treating me like I'm a helpless kid."

            I walked back to the bureau and picked up a mug.

            "Yeah, I know."  I offered her a smile.  "I'm sorry about what I said too.  I'm just a little on edge lately.  Not surprising considering all we've been through, but I shouldn't take it out on you."

            Mission's eyes flickered up.  They seemed to be regaining some of their impishness.  I put three heaping spoonfuls of sugar in my mug and poured caffa up to the brim.

            "Mission, you have to know that we don't think you're helpless."  The caffa burnt my tongue as I took a sip.  "We need you."

            "You really mean it, don't you?"  Mission looked like she was trying to contain her emotions, but she was beaming regardless.  "Nobody's ever said anything like that to me, not even Big Z.  He might think it, but he's not really one for words, you know?  Thanks, Carth."  She stuck the sugar spoon in her mouth as she tried to suppress a grin.

            "It's no big deal.  I know how it is."  I shrugged.  "Sometimes you just need to hear a few words of encouragement."  I smirked as I added, "_Kids_ are like that."

            "Kids are like that?" Mission exclaimed.  She dropped the sugar spoon and pointed a finger at me.  "Listen you…"  She glared up at me and noticed my smile.  Mission laughed and nodded.  "I get it.  Okay, you got me.  You're pretty funny, Carth.  For an old guy."

            Our conversation was interrupted by the door opening.  Rian walked in followed by Bastila Shan who seemed to be making a conscious effort to remain at least an arms length away from the other woman.  Rian was haggard, her right arm hanging loosely and her bottom lip split open and bleeding freely.  But Bastila was unharmed save for a bruise darkening alongside her jaw and a matching fat lip.  I heaved a sigh of relief.

            "Bastila, you're alive!" I cried.  "Finally, things are looking up.  Now we just need to figure out a way to get off this planet."

            At my comment, Rian scowled.  Bastila sniffed and faced me with a cold stare.

            "You mean you don't have a plan to get off Taris yet?"  Her eyes bore into me.  "What have you been doing all this time?"

            "We were trying to find you, remember?" Rian cut in with a snarl.

            Bastila considered Rian out of the corner of her eye.  The Jedi appeared to be furious, although it came off as icy.  I reached for my goatee nervously and sloshed hot caffa over my hand.

            "I see."  Bastila's voice was clipped.  "Now that I'm back in charge of this mission, perhaps we can start doing things properly.  Hopefully our escape from Taris will go more smoothly than when you 'rescued' me from Brejik."

            Mission slammed the rest of her caffa.  The mug hit the bureau with a dull thud.  She turned to Rian.

            "This is the friend you had to rescue?" Mission asked.  With her eyebrow raised she looked incredulous.

            Rian shrugged.  "Where's the hairball?"

            "In the bathroom hiding." Mission said.

            The door to the bathroom flung open and the sulking Wookiee emerged.  The muscles along Bastila's shoulders contracted. 

            "Twi'lek." Rian commanded.  "Wookiee.  Follow the Maimed Twi'lek."  She pointed to herself.  "If anyone needs us we'll be in the cantina."

            Rian spun around and marched out of the apartment.  Zaalbar and Mission followed close behind.

            The door glided shut, leaving me alone with Bastila.  The young Jedi began to finger comb her hair.  She walked over to the bureau and inspected the half empty caffa pot.

            "I know you're new at this, Bastila, but a leader doesn't berate her troops just because things aren't going as planned."  I set my mug down and grabbed a towel out of the bathroom to wipe the caffa from my hands.  "Don't let your ego get in the way of the real issues here."

            "That hardly strikes me as an appropriate way of addressing your commander, Carth." she snipped.  "I am a member of the Jedi Order and this is _my_ mission."

            No wonder Rian had disappeared in a hurry.  Our encounters had always been brief while on the Endar Spire, so I must have pushed from my mind what a pain Bastila could be.  She could have been the most powerful Jedi in the universe for all I cared, but when it came to being in charge of anything more important than her own bootlaces, Bastila Shan was useless.

            "It doesn't make you a good leader."  I took a deep breath, trying to control my frustration.  "A good leader would at least listen to the advice of those who have seen more combat than she ever will."

            Bastila's bloody lip jutted out as she wove her hair into braids with rigid jerks of her arms.

            "I suppose you feel that you are more qualified than I?"  She raised an eyebrow in what seemed to be a direct challenge.

            I groaned.  "You know, I had my doubts, but I figured the Jedi Council wouldn't put you in charge if you weren't prepared.  But here you are acting like a spoiled child!"

            There.  I said it.  Bastila swallowed hard and blinked.  I was just relieved that Rian and Mission weren't here to witness me scolding the woman who was supposed to be in charge.

            "I see." Bastila said finally.  "It's true that I don't have much military experience; perhaps I should not be so quick to judge.  Very well, Carth, what do you suggest we do?"

            Bastila looked at me expectantly.  I was thankful that she wasn't fighting me anymore, but my stomach began to twist itself into knots.  The Jedi woman was different than Rian, but had the same distinct ability to put me on edge and make me feel as uncomfortable as the smuggler.  Where Rian was feral and uncouth, Bastila was refined, but underneath her manners she was just as venomous.

            I cleared my throat.  "First off we can't get hung up on who's in charge; we all need to work together if we want to get off this rock.  The answer's out there, we just need to find it."

            Bastila nodded slowly.  "Well said, Carth.  Before we head out, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

            "What do you want to know?" I asked.

            "What can you tell me about Rian Vega?"  Her gaze was hard and unsettling.

            "You probably know more than I do." I replied.  "Her file was restricted to the point that I couldn't even access that her home world was Deralia."

            "Yet you know that her home world is Deralia."  Bastila's blue eyes were accusatory.

            "Because I asked her."  I held a hand up to shield myself from her stare.

            "Surely you must know something about Rian other than the bland facts on her file." Bastila persisted.

            "Well, she's pretty handy with two vibroblades." I offered.  "And she can drink quite a bit without throwing up."

            Bastila shook her head.  "Did she mention anything regarding her past to you?" she asked.

            "Not really."  I shrugged.  "Is there anything I should know about her past?"

            "No." Bastila murmured.  "I suppose not.  Is there a place in this hovel that I could rinse my mouth out?"

            I pointed towards the bathroom.  What was her problem?  Did she sully her mouth by talking to me?  I headed to the bureau and poured myself another cup of caffa.  If I was lucky, Rian wouldn't drink herself silly at the cantina.


	35. Mandalorian Bedside Manner

Rian:

            So this was how it was going to be from now on, huh?  Not if I had any say in the matter.  I stormed out of the apartment with Mission and Zaalbar right behind me.  I'd leave Carth to deal with that belligerent terror he forced me to rescue.

            As soon as I stepped out of the apartment I ran into a Twi'lek.  He bumped into me and my shoulder erupted with fresh pain.  I hadn't taken the time to look at it yet, but I knew my arm had to have been a useless sack of meat by now.  I pushed the Twi'lek out of my way with my good arm.

            The Twi'lek's lekku gave an agitated flick, but he placed himself in front of me.  "You are the rider who won the swoop race, yes?" he said.

            "What do you want?" I in no mood to deal with anyone at that moment.

            The Twi'lek's lekku shifted.  I glanced over my shoulder to see Mission standing behind me, her head-tails moving fiercely.  From what I caught from their silent conversation, he had offered some small talk and perhaps a few lewd comments to which she responded rudely.

            "I want nothing.  I am only a runner."  He offered a smile but it was too toothy to be trusted.  "I have a message from Canderous Ordo.  He says to meet him in the cantina."

            "Why does Canderous Ordo want to meet me?"  I covered my wounded shoulder with a protective hand.

            "He only said that he had an offer you couldn't refuse."  The Twi'lek replied.  "Given his connections, you can see why it would be foolish to ignore his request."

            "Thanks for the message."  I waved him away.  The Twi'lek bowed once before disappearing into the shadows.

            Zaalbar gave a suspicious snort.  I groaned and made my way out of the apartment building.  Who was Canderous Ordo anyway?  Maybe I didn't scout out Taris as well as I thought I had.

            Once we were out on the streets of the Upper City, Mission turned to me.  "What was that all about?" she asked.

            "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough." I muttered.

            "Rian Vega," Zaalbar rumbled.  "we are not heading in the direction of the cantina."

            "I know." I grunted.  "I'm not going anywhere until I have Doctor Forn look at my shoulder."

            "Didn't you tell Carth Onasi that we would be in the cantina?" the Wookiee persisted.

            "I might have."  I grazed my split lip with a finger.

            Mission laughed.  "Are we hiding from Carth now?" she asked.

            "I don't need to hide from Carth." I scoffed.  "But his little girlfriend is proving to be a hassle."

            "_She's_ his girlfriend?"  Mission's nose crinkled and she stuck out her tongue.

            "There's no accounting for some people's tastes." I muttered. 

            I peered down the neck of my orange jacket and scowled.  It was nothing compared to the massive expanse of supple flesh overflowing in that metal bustier back in the apartment.  I grumbled a couple obscenities beneath my breath.  It wasn't fair that anyone could be that physically attractive.

            When we entered Zelka Forn's facility, Gurney glared at us until Zaalbar snarled in his direction.  I found a medical bench and plopped onto it and waited for Doctor Forn.

            "You again?"  Zelka shook his head.  "You really don't know how to stay out of trouble, do you?"

            I grinned sheepishly.  I peeled the jacket off my shoulder carefully and tried not to cringe in agony.  The jacket itself had a lovely fried hole over its right shoulder.  I doubted Carth would mind, guys don't really care much about clothing.

            Doctor Forn began to wash his hands at the sink.  The memory of him stabbing me with Rakghoul serum made me watch him warily.

            "Hey, Zaalbar."  I waited for the Wookiee to look up before I continued.  "Head to the cantina and bring Canderous Ordo to me."

            Zaalbar cocked his head to one side, thoughtful.  "What if this Canderous Ordo does not speak Shyriiwook?" he asked finally.

            "Then he's no use to me." I retorted sourly.  I felt like I was going cross-eyed as I tried to both look Zaalbar in the face while keeping one eye on the good doctor.

            Mission giggled.  Zelka Forn glowered.  Zaalbar looked bored and detached.  I started to massage my temples with my left hand.

            "Zaalbar, when you find Canderous, tell him to bring me an Antakarian Fire Dancer as a sign of good will." I requested.

            Zaalbar nodded and headed for the door.  Zelka stepped in front of the Wookiee and waved a syringe at him.  The doctor's face was grim.

            "You'll do no such thing!" he barked.  "I'll not have you mucking up the effects of my medicine by giving her alcohol." 

            Zaalbar shrugged and left.  I sighed.

            "Let me guess, you got involved in one of those Lower City gang shootouts." Zelka wasn't asking.

            I gasped as he grasped my arm.  Before I could protest, he shot my arm full of whatever he had in that syringe.

            "And they roughed up your pretty face too."  Zelka pressed his mouth into a thin line. 

            "That's nothing." I murmured.

            "You're entire lower lip is swollen."  He began to 'tsk.'

            "That's what I get for getting fresh on our first date."  My mouth twisted bitterly.

            "Rian, can I ask you a question?" Mission interrupted.

            "Sure thing."  I tried to keep everything but my right shoulder in my line of vision.

            "Why'd you send Big Z out to get Canderous instead of me?" she asked.  "I can speak Basic."

            "I know."  I grinned. 

            "Don't you trust me?"  Mission gave me a hard look.

            Despite the numbness in my arm from the medicine, I felt a firm pressure in my shoulder.  I glared at Zelka and he ignored me.

            "Even better." I told her.  "I trust that you'll tell me if I look fat in this stylish bloodstained star pilots jacket.  But I sent him for a reason.  I wanted to talk to you about Zaalbar."

            "Zaalbar?  What did you want to talk about?"  A smile blossomed on Mission's face to match my own.

            "Well, he's sworn this life-debt to me," I said.  "and if he's going to be throwing himself in front of rancors on my behalf, I'd like to know at least something about him."

            Mission laughed.  "Zaalbar's always been the strong, silent type, in case you haven't noticed." she said simply.

            "How did he end up on Taris?" I wondered.

            "He was fleeing some kind of trouble on Kashyyyk."  Mission's eyes widened and she donned a no-nonsense frown.  "That's all I know really.  Big Z doesn't like to talk about it."

            "Slavers maybe." I suggested.

            Mission shrugged.  "Doesn't much matter to me." she admitted.  "I accept him for what he is, not what he was.  Me and Zaalbar like to live in the present."

            "Anything else I should know?" I pressed.

            "He mentions wasaka berry pie a lot when he thinks I'm not paying attention." Mission offered.

            "I'll keep that in mind." I replied.

            "You really let those gang members wound you?  I didn't expect you to be so sloppy."  The gruff and decidedly masculine voiced resonated through the medical facility.

            "Canderous Ordo, I take it?"  I didn't bother to turn around to face him.  "Why did you seek me out?"

            "I heard of your exploits in the swoop race.  Very impressive." he said.  "You seem like you know how to get results.  That's just the kind of person I'm looking for."

            "Results?"  I forced out a chuckle.  "The only reason I was worth spit in that race was because I had a prototype accelerator and I wrecked the competition's bikes."

            "You weren't the only one sabotaging swoop bikes."  Canderous' voice had an air of nonchalance.  "The Black Vulkars wanted a guaranteed win for Redros.  But that's not what I'm here for."

            "And just what is it that you're here for?" I demanded as I turned to face him.  The rest of my words were caught in my throat.

            The Mandalorian that stood before me was relaxed, but by no means did that make him any less deadly.  His sturdy musculature was concealed only by simple body armor.  An older man, Canderous' sandy blonde hair was peppered with gray and he proudly wore scars earned by previous battles.  I swallowed hard around a lump in my throat.

            "I work for Davik Kang and the Exchange; the hours aren't great, but they promised me a fortune to work for them and I have nothing better to do."  The Mandalorian cut to the chase immediately.  "But lately Davik hasn't been paying me what he promised.  I don't like getting cheated, so I figure its time for me to break the Sith quarantine and get off this backwater planet."

            I glanced at Mission for support, but her eyes were perfectly round.  I looked at Zaalbar and gritted my teeth.  All that damned Wookiee hair covering up any facial expression that he might have.

            "And how do you propose to do that?" I asked.  Zelka jabbed me with another needle and I yelped.

            "I've got a plan to escape Taris, but I can't do it alone." Canderous explained. 

            His pale blue eyes looked as if they were carved from icy crystal.  I tried desperately to restrain myself from gulping.  I don't think it worked.

            "I need someone I know who can get the job done to help me." He said.  "That's where you come in."

            "This is a medical facility, not some rendezvous point." Dr. Forn interrupted.  "You fools should work out the details of getting yourselves killed elsewhere."

            "I ain't talking to you." Canderous warned.

            "We'll be quick." I promised Zelka.  
            Canderous gave the doctor a disdainful snort.  "Some of the stunts you pulled at that race were less than sensible and it made me think.  Anyone crazy enough to do those things is probably crazy enough to break into the Sith military base."  He crossed his arms.  "I need someone to steal the Sith launch codes from the base.  Without those codes, any ship leaving the atmosphere will be disintegrated by the Sith fleet's automated defense guns."

            "Why should I help you?" I raised an eyebrow.

            Canderous smiled.  I think my jaw fell open.  It seemed completely unnatural for a face as hard as his to show any hint of emotion. 

            "Here's the deal." he said.  "You bring me those launch codes and I can provide the vehicle to get off the planet, Davik's flagship, the Ebon Hawk."

            "How are you going to manage that?" Mission blurted out.

            "I didn't realize you were part of this conversation."  Canderous spared the young Twi'lek an aloof glance.

            "Mission's raised a good point." I cut in.  "I doubt Davik's going to just hand his ship over to us and I'd bet my right kidney that it's securely guarded."

            "Uh uh.  Not yet."  Canderous raised a finger as if scolding a small child.  "First you bring me the launch codes.  Then I'll tell you the rest of my plan."

            "How do you expect me to get inside the military base?" I questioned.  It sounded to me like Mr. Ordo wanted to reap the benefits of my hard work while doing nothing himself.

            I caught notice of a devilish glint behind Canderous' eyes.  Maybe the Mandalorian had a soul after all.  "You'll need a top of the line astromech droid to slice through the encrypted security system.  Lucky for you I know just the place to get a droid like that."


	36. Harebrained Scheme

Bastila:

            The stale air of the apartment was strangely soothing.  I sat on the bed in lotus position and let my mind go blank.  Deliciously blank.

            Carth had been kind enough to purchase a tunic for me so I could be rid of that tasteless bustier.  It was a bit large, but I didn't mind.  It covered what the leather pants did not.

            As for Carth, he was in the refresher.  After we had attempted to devise alternate escape plans, he grew frustrated and stormed into the bathroom.  I realized that our conversation had ended by the sound of running water that followed.  I honestly could not believe that a man of his ranking could be so impatient.

            The hiss of the apartment door gliding open pulled me from my meditation.  In walked the blue Twi'lek child followed by the Wookiee and Rian Vega.  The woman sported a lopsided grin and the reek of alcohol.

            "Well, hello to you too." she replied to my look of disdain.

            "Do you realize how long you've been gone?" I asked.

            "I had hoped it would be long enough for you to calm down." Rian said tartly.  "Should I come back in a few hours?"

            "You'll do no such thing!" I exclaimed.  "You've been gone long enough."

            "The doctor's visit took longer than I thought."  She shrugged with her good arm.

            "Oh?"  My calm seemed to be slipping away.  "What about after the doctor's?"

            "I went to the cantina just like I said I would." Rian snapped.  "Do you have paperwork for me to fill out now every time I want to leave the apartment?"

            "Perhaps I should if you intend to drown yourself in a bottle." I retorted.

            "I was able to coax the doctor into allowing me one glass of wine." she growled.  "Whether you believe it not, that was all I had."

            How foolish did she think I looked?  "Did you bathe in this glass of wine, then?  You stink of the stuff."

            The Twi'lek giggled.  Rian glared at her.  The girl's lekku flattened against her shoulders and she sat down on the floor and motioned to her Wookiee friend.  She produced a pazaak deck and the two began to play.  Rian faced me with a heavy-lidded look of exhaustion.

            "A lovely patron in the cantina thought he could purchase Mission from me, so I had Zaalbar heave him into a table." she said flatly.  "In the process, I got soaked.  Stung my arm like hell too."

            I slid off the bed and walked towards her.  Rian shifted her weight to one leg.  She looked agitated.

            "That's beside the point." I persisted.  "While you were off gallivanting at the cantina, I was here with Carth trying to find a way off of this planet."

            "Well," Rian sighed.  "while you were trying to find a way off of this planet, I found one."

            "This should be interesting." I murmured.  What sort of harebrained scheme could she have possibly come up with amid her drunken stupor?

            "The only way to break the quarantine and make it off Taris alive, is by snatching the launch codes at the Sith base." she stated.

            "What do you propose we do then?"  I smirked.  "Knock on the front doors?"

            "I propose that I do nothing, as I'm currently wounded." Rian shot back.  "There's a little place in town where you can pick up an astromech droid who can bypass the security system.  Scrounge up enough credits for the little bugger, break into the base and nab the codes."

            "Even if we manage to get the codes without a legion of Sith soldiers swarming down our throats, we still don't have a ship." I argued.

            "Nope." she agreed.  "But Davik Kang does and I've got an insider who'll help us."

            "And what do you know of this insider?" I questioned.

            "He's a tough-as-nails merc with a heart of gold?"  Rian grinned.

            "Don't forget big and ugly looking." Mission chimed in.

            "He's aged pretty well if you want my opinion." Rian chuckled.

            "So you know nothing?"  I demanded.

            "His word is good." Rian assured me.  "Call it a hunch."

            I threw my hands up.  "This is ridiculous!"

            "What's ridiculous?" Carth asked as he walked out of the bathroom.  His goatee had been trimmed and the neck of his shirt sported fresh water spots.

            "She thinks we should raid the heavily armed Sith base because of a hunch!"  I pointed a finger directly at Rian.

            Rian crossed her arms.  "You're just mad because you didn't think of it, aren't you?"

            "What?" I spluttered.  Of all the preposterous things I have ever heard, that had to be the worst.

            "Besides, I don't see you coming up with a better plan."  Rian's eyes were daggers.

            "If you just gave me some time—"

            "Time is a luxury that you don't have." Rian interrupted me.  "Now the first part is easy.  All we need is credits to buy the droid.  How much money do we have?"

            "If I had any money I can assure you that it was taken by Brejik."  I spoke through clenched teeth.

            "Carth?"  Rian turned to the pilot.

            "Most of my credits belong to Mission now." he grumbled.

            "You have a horrible bluffing face." the Twi'lek stated simply.  "Should I start letting you win?"

            "Hand them over."  Rian held out her hand.

            "No way!" Mission protested.  "I earned them.  You want them, you'll have to play me for them."

            "For your sake, I'm going to decline." Rian replied.  "It's not in my nature to take people I'm fond of and obliterate them."

            "Whatever."  Mission rolled her eyes.

            The Wookiee walked forward and placed some credits into Rian's outstretched palm.  He spoke too quickly for me to decipher his words, but Rian was pleased by them.

            "Alright, folks." Rian announced.  "With Zaalbar's, Mission's and my credits combined we're a couple hundred credits short.  Any suggestions on how to get some quick cash, or am I supposed to sway the shopkeeper on charm and good looks alone?"

            "My credits?" Mission demanded.

            "Yeah, yours." Rian retorted.  "Or did you really think that Zaalbar saved up those credits he handed me instead of listening to his stomach and buying a nerf burger?"

            "Zaalbar!" Mission exclaimed as she hopped to her feet.  She jabbed him in the gut with a fist.  The Wookiee shrugged and apologized.

            I started to open my mouth when I felt a hand on my shoulder.  I looked over to see Carth shoot me a sympathetic look.

            "Rian's idea actually sounds like it's our best option right now." he muttered.  "Unless you can come up with another plan to counter hers, maybe the easiest thing would be to go along with her for now."

            I sighed.  I sat back down on the bed and pulled my ankles in towards my torso.  "Do whatever you want." I told Rian.  "I would like to return to my meditation."

            I closed my eyes and tried to shut the four others out.


	37. Teethree

Carth:

            "So this is a top of the line astromech droid?" I raised an eyebrow.

            Rian shrugged.  "Maybe if we're lucky we'll be able to rig it so that it will dispense caffa."

            At Rian's comment, the little droid rolled back from us and chortled.  Mission laughed and patted the top of its flat head.  If that could be considered a head.

            "I think he's cute!" Mission declared.

            "It's a 'he' now?" Rian said dryly.

            "Of course he is." Mission replied.  "Aren't you, T3-M4?  Can I call you Teethree?"

            The droid tooted and Mission grinned.  I rolled my eyes. 

            "He's got quite the smart mouth doesn't he?" I muttered.  I turned to face Rian.

            She didn't say anything.  Her brows furrowed and she gnawed at her lower lip looking aghast as she stared at the T3 unit.

            "I'm curious as to how you found enough credits to purchase him." Bastila announced.

            "I played pazaak until they kicked me out of the cantina." Mission said.  "Some people are sore losers."

            "So everyone else just sat around and did nothing and hoped that Mission would come home with enough money?" Bastila demanded.

            "I happen to have faith in Mission's abilities." Rian snarled.

            "I'm not saying that I don't!" Bastila backpedaled.  "But there are always unforeseen circumstances.  What would have happened if whoever she was playing pazaak with decided to kill her because she won?"

            "Zaalbar was with her." Rian argued.

            "I can take care of myself!" Mission snapped.

            "Besides, shouldn't everyone be sharing in the responsibilities?" Bastila continued.

            "I didn't see you going out and trying to earn credits." Rian shot back.

            "I can't!" protested Bastila.  "There are Sith soldiers everywhere looking for me.  You have no excuse."

            Was there some rulebook somewhere that stated that all attractive women must hate each other?  Individually, Mission was a sweet kid, Bastila was rational and polite and Rian was, well Rian.  Somebody would have to split them up and calm them down, but that sounded to me like something akin to begging to be flayed alive.  I glanced at Zaalbar.  Maybe the Wookiee would do it for me.

            "I would have played pazaak, but my arm's wounded." Rian said simply.

            "I didn't realize you needed more than one hand to play cards." Bastila retorted.

            "You do if you're cheating." I interrupted with a smirk.  A bad move on my part.

            The three ladies stopped their bickering and spared me a look.  Bastila quickly turned her frosty visage back to Rian to shoot her a disgusted glare.  Mission doubled over laughing.  Rian raised an eyebrow at Bastila and watched Mission cackle for a moment.  Slowly, she faced me.  Her nose flared up and her mouth drew back tightly.  How such a pretty woman could look so ugly was beyond me.

            "Now that we've got the droid,"  I cleared my throat.  "what are we going to do?"

            "_We_ aren't going to do anything." Rian growled.  "_I_ worked out this plan and got your droid. _ I_ think I've already done quite enough.  You can get into the Sith base now if you want to."

            "I suppose you intend to abandon Carth to this task alone?" Bastila sneered.

            "Why should I care?" Rian retorted.  "It's your life at risk here, darling, not mine.  Every time I help you, I'm putting my ass in danger.  I don't need that."

            "You do if you don't want every Echani in the known galaxy searching for an infamous spice smuggler on account of a sizeable bounty placed on her head." Bastila threatened.

            "Nice bluff, doll."  Rian's upper lip curled back in a feral manner.  "Unfortunately for you, I doubt a brat your age has the authority to back it up."

            Mission stepped back beside me.  She poked me in the ribs.

            "I bet twenty credits on Rian." she whispered.

            I scowled at her.

            "Try me." Bastila hissed.  "The Jedi Council invested a lot in hiring you.  You weren't employed simply to run away."

            "I am not running away." Rian was practically spitting venom.  "I did my job.  Find some other lackey."

            "I won't allow you to walk out on your duties." Bastila warned.  "If you do this now you will suffer later."

            "You won't be able to keep you little promise if you're not alive to—"

            An ear-splitting roar interrupted them.  Between the new gibbering droid and their little spat I had completely forgotten about the generally quiet Wookiee.

            Zaalbar had obviously used this to his advantage.  He had snatched the two women by the scruffs of their necks and dangled them from the air an arms length apart.  Bastila was frozen in shock, her suspended legs not even remembering to sway.  Rian just crossed her arms and gave the Wookiee an irritated glance.

            Zaalbar moaned and groaned and carried on.  Whatever his words were, they must have worked because as he continued with his tirade looks of guilt blossomed across both Bastila's and Rian's face.  Mission bit her lip in an attempt to hold back laughter and T3-M4 bleeped out his approval.  As usual, I had no idea what the hell was going on.

            Zaalbar finally set them down once their rage had been reduced to sulking.  Bastila stroked on of her braids nervously.  Rian tugged at the bandages on her shoulder.

            "I would rest easier knowing that you would be on hand in the Sith base." Bastila said.  She didn't look at Rian.  "We could really benefit from your expertise."

            "Since when does my expertise have anything to do with a military base?" Rian asked.

            "Certainly you realize the skills that you possess." Bastila began.

            "Yes I do." Rian said curtly.  "And being a human shield for Carth Onasi in the Sith military base is not a skill that I possess."

            "You can't possibly mean that you're afraid to go in there." Bastila pressed.

            "Look, taking out street thugs that are too stupid to know what blaster setting to use is one thing." Rian stated.  "But going head to head with trained soldiers is completely different.  Even if I wasn't wounded I wouldn't go in there."

            "Who else is there to do it?" Bastila asked.  "Shall we let Carth go by himself?"

            "What good would I be?" Rian demanded.  "How many times do I have to repeat that I'm wounded?"

            "It doesn't look so bad to me." Bastila sniffed.  "I'm sure you'll be fine in the morning."

            Rian snorted.  "Maybe a morning three weeks from now."

            "Stop being so argumentative."  Bastila grabbed Rian's hand and led her to the bed.

            Mission gave me a questioning look, but I just shrugged.  They weren't trying to kill each other anymore so I was relieved.

            "Sit down." Bastila ordered.  Much to my chagrin Rian did just that.  "Now close your eyes and relax."

            "Don't I look like I'm relaxed?" Rian muttered.

            Bastila ignored her.  "Now I want you to breathe in and out slowly and concentrate on nothing."

            Mission snickered and I jabbed her in the arm.  Rian seemed to be taking to whatever Bastila was doing to her.  Her eyes were closed and calm, her breathing consistent.

            After watching her for a few minutes, Bastila joined Mission, Zaalbar and myself.

            "Rian is going to be like that for a while." She announced.

            "What did you do to her?" I asked.

            "Nothing."  Bastila sounded defensive.  "I merely showed her a path.  It was her decision to take it."

            "That's a bit cryptic for my tastes." I said.  "Do you mind elaborating?"

            "No."  Bastila's eyes glinted dangerously.  "The Jedi Council may choose to discuss it with you later once we get to Dantooine."

            Once we get to Dantooine?  Knowing my luck, as soon as I got Bastila safely to Dantooine the Republic would whisk me away on some other assignment.  Bastila Shan would be playing out her role as savior to the galaxy and Carth Onasi would be making snowmen on Hoth.


	38. Sith Base

Rian:

            I should have throttled Bastila.  I still couldn't comprehend how she managed to convince me to show up at the Sith Military base.  It certainly wasn't due to her modest demeanor.

            I guess that I was thankful for whatever she did to me the night before.  Where my shoulder was previously a mound of chewed up nerf burger fresh pink skin was in its place.  Sure there was going to be a small scar, but it would be nothing in comparison to what it would have been otherwise.  A part of me wanted to show Zelka Forn to see his reaction to my speedy recovery.

            Despite my healed arm I still wasn't comfortable around her.  I didn't like her, that was a given; overly attractive arrogant women have never made me happy, but there was something else.  It almost felt like Bastila could read my mind.  When I woke up in the morning from the nightmare in which she had a staring role, I found Bastila wide awake, her eyes on me.

_            "Is something wrong?" she had asked.  "You seem as if something is troubling you."_

_            "Forget it, it's nothing." I snapped immediately._

_            Bastila nodded slowly.  "As you wish." was all she said, but her eyes regarded me carefully for a time after that._

            To hell with Bastila, anyway, I thought.  She was hiding safe and sound in the apartment while I was stuck frolicking towards the Sith military base.  To top things off, I was stuck with a somber Wookiee, a whistling droid and a sulky flyboy.

            Carth had finally reclaimed his jacket after he saw the damage I was capable of.  I had never seen a man get so bent out of shape over a single piece of clothing.  He acted as though I had tried to stab his eyes out with a fork.

            I had to settle on borrowing a top from Mission.  It fit too well for my liking.  I suppose it could have been worse, her shirt could have been loose on my figure.

            It didn't really matter anyway.  Mission's top was hidden by some brand new body armor.  Unbeknownst to Bastila, I also carried her lightsaber.  There was no way I wasn't taking every precaution possible.

            Carth and Zaalbar had offered to come along with me and the metal footstool.  It was a shame that Mission was fond of the little droid, as soon as I could get alone with it, I'd disassemble it and sell it for parts.  As far as I was concerned a droid was useless if it couldn't speak anything other than Droid Speak.

            Metal-head must have picked up on my thoughts.  It burbled and rolled away from me.

            "She's not that bad." Carth replied to the droid.

            "That depends." I replied.  "How bad did it say I was?"

            "What?" Carth asked.  "Didn't you hear him?"

            "I heard a couple of 'bleeps' followed by a 'boop,' yes." I said.  "But it doesn't mean I can understand any of it."

            "Is that some sort of joke?" Carth sounded incredulous.

            "No.  It's not."  I gritted my teeth.

            "Really?"  His brown eyes widened.  "Sometimes I catch you speaking Rodese in your sleep.  I just figured that between all the exotic languages you do know, you would have to understand a simple language like Droid Speak."

            "Well, you figured wrong." I muttered.  "Let's just get this over with, okay?"

            The bucket on wheels rolled forward to the control panel for the military base's door.  It gave an irritated bleat as a metal probe appeared out of its front.  The T3 unit attached itself to the control panel and after a display of toots and flying sparks, the door slide open.

            We entered what appeared to be some sort of reception area.  A female Twi'lek behind a desk jerked her head up, startled.  Her milk white lekku signed out a stream of obscenities while her mouth remained more professional.

            "You can't come in here!" she protested.  "This is a restricted area!  You better tell me what you're doing or I'm going to hit the alarm!"

            I straightened my posture and turned my nose up at her.  "I'm here for a meeting."  I tried to sound as snooty as possible.  "Don't worry; I know where I have to go."

            The Twi'lek raised an eyebrow.  "Nice try." she replied.  "You think that just because I'm pretty I'm also stupid?"

            "I was hoping." I muttered.

            Carth glared at me.

            "Tell me why you're here or I'll hit the alarm and you'll have about three seconds before this office is swarming with Sith soldiers." she threatened.

            T3-M4 let loose a low whistle.

            I sighed.  "I had wished it wouldn't have come to this." I confessed.

            I began to dig through my pockets until I found what I was looking for.  I pulled out a fifty credit piece, my last fifty credit piece.  I cringed as I pressed the bribe into the Twi'lek woman's hand.  I was now officially broke.

            "You might want to get out of here before it gets messy." I advised.

            Fortunately, she took the bait and abandoned her post.  I held my breath until I was certain that the woman had left for good.  I let my posture slump back to normal.

            "Get super droid over here."  I pointed to the terminal behind the desk.

            A decidedly rude noise emitted from the droid as it rolled over to the terminal.  I ground my teeth together.  Forget scrapping that pricey caffa table for parts, I think I'd find melting it down into nothing more satisfying.

            The T3 unit hooked itself to the computer terminal while Carth fingered his blasters anxiously.  Zaalbar seemed to be the only one who was truly calm.

            "How do you think Mission is faring against Bastila?" I interrupted the silence.

            "Mission can take care of herself."  Carth smirked.  "I'm more worried about Bastila.  Have you ever tried to play pazaak with that kid?"

            I glowered.  So Carth thought Bastila was some sort of damsel in distress that needed protecting, did he?  This did not bode well for any of my would-be future manipulations.

            The T3 unit whistled as it revealed the military base's security cameras.  Maybe the pile of bolts wasn't so bad after all, not that I wouldn't scrap it in a heartbeat.

            "So, if we're going to avoid all the Sith soldiers, we should just stay in this room." I grumbled.

            "Teethree," Carth said.  "are there any terminals or war droids in the other rooms?"

            The droid bleeped its reply.

            "What are you getting at?" I asked.

            "Overload the terminals, then reprogram the droids to attack the Sith." he commanded.

            "So you are pretty useful." I mused.

            "You're not so bad, yourself."  Carth raised an eyebrow.

            We waited for a few minutes until the blasts on the other side of the door quieted.  I looked around, from droid, to Wookiee to human.  Was I the only one that wanted to run screaming?

            "That should have cleared up the majority of trouble we would have faced."  Carth cleared his throat.  "But we should still be careful.  Anything can happen."

            I could use my stealth generator.  That would reduce the chance of an untimely death.  Of course, I'd be following two heavy footed fellows and a gibbering droid.  Scoundrel's luck be damned, I was convinced that I'd be fortunate enough to take a hit in their crossfire.  I fell in line, conveniently behind Zaalbar.

            The hallways were quiet save for the marching feet of the reprogrammed droids.  For trained soldiers, those Sith were really caught off guard when their own droids started to attack them.

            "Where do you think the launch codes will be?" I whispered.

            "Probably in the Governor's office." came Carth's response.

            We continued down the halls in silence.  The overloaded terminals and droids seemed to have worked for the most part.  On the occasions that there were a few remaining soldiers, Carth and Zaalbar made quick work of them while I was left quaking in my boots.  T3-M4 appeared to be utterly useless.

            We reached the final room at the end of the hall with little fuss.

            "Past this room should be the stairs leading to the Governor's office." Carth said.

            As the door slid open we were faced with a gigantic droid of doom.

            "Just great." I muttered.

            Zaalbar stepped in front of me while he and Carth started to lay it to waste.  Their blaster fire seemed to bounce off the droid's shields.

            "This isn't working!" Carth screamed.  "We're going to have to take cover!"

            Zaalbar, Carth and I dove to the side of the doorway as the droid erupted in blaster fire of its own.

            "What are we going to do?" I demanded

            Zaalbar gave a disgruntled moan.

            "I'm working on it." Carth snapped.  "If we had some ion grenades this would be a hell of a lot easier."

            Just then, the blaster fire coming from the droid ceased.  In its place were gurgles and whistles.

            "Where's the T3 unit?" I asked.

            Carth scratched at his goatee before he peered around the door.  "I don't believe this." he mumbled.

            "What's going on?" I wondered.  As I poked my head around the doorway, I think my jaw hit the floor.

            T3-M4 stood a mere yard away from the other droid and the two were conversing.  Amid the mishmash of burbles and toots, the other droid dropped his shield.  What the hell was going on?

            I didn't get the chance to figure it out.  A blast smashed into the enormous droid and it crashed into the ground.  I looked over my shoulder to see Zaalbar, his bowcaster in hand, a smile crooked on his face.

            "Show off."  I grumbled.

            The Wookiee laughed.

            "The Governor's office is right ahead." Carth cut in.  "Let's do this quick."

            The Governor's office was a small little room with a desk and a file cabinet.  As luck would have it, the Governor's office also contained the Governor himself.  On a small mat in the middle of the floor in full lotus, his eyes flew open as we entered the room.

            "Who dares to break my meditation?" he demanded with a practiced menace.  "You will pay for interrupting my… wait."

            Carth had his blasters aimed at the other man and Zaalbar had placed himself between me and harm's way.  The Governor stood up and looked at me curiously.

            "I sense the Force is strong within you." he murmured.  "Very strong."

            "You take one step closer to her and you'll have a smoking hole in your head." Carth warned.

            The Governor spared Carth a bored expression.  As he flicked his wrist I was hit with a strange sensation.  Almost as if my muscles were transforming into stone from flesh as they constricted.  The feeling washed over me suddenly, but just as quickly disappeared.

            It seemed to have affected Carth and Zaalbar as well.  Where it was a moment of discomfort on my part, however, it seemed to have them frozen in their spots.  I reached for Bastila's lightsaber.

            "What did you do?"  I ignited the doubled-bladed weapon.

            "Who would have thought a Force adept could be found on this insignificant planet?"  A crimson blade sprang to life in his hands.  "But your talent is no match for a disciple of the Dark Side!"

            This was not good.  Not good at all.  If I managed not to lose control of my bodily functions, I might be lucky and live long enough to tell Bastila how much I hated her for sticking me in this situation.

            He struck first, and I parried easily.  He was toying with me.

            "I'm going to enjoy gutting you." I growled.

            He smiled.  "Yes, feed the anger and hatred within yourself." he coaxed.  "Call upon the power of the Dark Side.  But not even that can save you now!"

            While he was looking into my eyes, I stomped on his foot.  He yelped, but instantly sent me sprawling into the wall with whatever "Force voodoo" he was using.  I nearly maimed myself on the cumbersome double-bladed weapon that I was holding.

            I never thought I would die like that.  I always pictured it to be something more cinematic than me lying in a pathetic heap on the floor with some ugly skinhead gloating over me.  What a lousy way to kick it.

            He lifted his lightsaber high above my head, while I wracked my brain to see if there was any god worth praying to.  He appeared still for a moment.  Then his eyes widened, first with shock, then with pain.  As he howled, I took advantage and slashed through his chest with my lightsaber.

            It's interesting how even the most masculine of men tend to shriek like little girls when the opportunity presents itself.  Most men might argue differently, but most men never have lived to boast after getting their backside toasted by a flamethrower-toting astromech droid.

            T3 chortled.

            I grimaced at the droid.  "Are you trying to prove yourself, or something?" I asked.

            In the meanwhile, Carth and Zaalbar had come to.  I started rummaging through the Governor's desk until I found the datapad containing the launch codes.

            "Let's get out of here." I said.

            No one argued.


	39. To the Estate

Carth:

_            "Here's a little something that I thought you'd like."  She handed me a large box._

_            "You didn't have to get me anything…" I mumbled as I tugged at the bow around it._

_            "But I did."  Morgana brushed some of her stray honey colored hair off her shoulder.  "So be gracious, not modest."_

_            I edged the lid off the box and pushed the tissue paper aside.  The orange star-pilot's jacket that was revealed was probably the ugliest thing I've ever seen._

_            "That's a pretty… interesting color." I managed finally._

_            "I thought so." she agreed.  "I didn't want to get you something boring like black or brown."_

_            "I don't know what to say."  I tried to force an ill looking grin to my face._

_            "If that awful thing won't keep those female ensigns off of you while you're away from me on assignment, I don't know what will!" she laughed_

_            "You picked it out specifically because it was hideous?" I spluttered indignantly._

_            "Uh huh." she murmured._

_            "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."  I rolled my eyes._

_            "I do."  Morgana grabbed me by my collar and pulled me close to her…_

            At the first chance I got, I buried the jacket into the deepest recess of our attic closet.  When Telos was bombed I had more important concerns on my mind than a stupid jacket, but by some queer twist of fate, the only thing to make it intact out of the rubble of my freshly razed house was that hideous damned thing.

            After that, I had figured that the orangey-tan abomination was indestructible.  I guess I was wrong.

            I took a sip of the caffa in my hand.  It was cold.  How long had those two women been in the bathroom?

            "That's quite a resume."  Bastila must not have realized how thin the doors were just yet.

            "What can I say?  I'm a talented individual." came Rian's muffled reply.

            "Yes, I can see you do not lack in ability; although modesty is another matter." sniffed Bastila.

            "Are they at it again?" Mission asked.

            "Of course." I replied.  "When aren't they?"

            My caffa sloshed in the mug as Zaalbar joined Mission and myself on the bed.  He rumbled something, then chuckled.  Mission joined in on his laughter.

            "What's so funny?" I asked.

            "Big Z says that there's only one way that Wookiees deal with two cubs who don't get along in the nursery." Mission translated.  "They coat the cubs with jaar and forest honey, then they tie them together.  They're left by themselves for two days.  Usually, by that time they're found curled up sleeping together, licked clean."

            If that wasn't a dangerous thought… I felt the heat rise to my ears.  "Somehow, I don't think that solution would work." I stammered.

            Mission's and Zaalbar's guffawing only grew louder at my admission.  I sipped my cold caffa.

            The door to the bathroom flew open.  Rian walked out and looked over her shoulder.

            "I think you're underestimating us non-Jedi." she called to Bastila.

            Color blossomed in Bastila's cheeks as she realized that she had an audience.  "Perhaps." she said.  "But the Force works through all of us to some degree or another."

            "Well, the Force doesn't work through me." Rian interrupted.  "Especially not on an empty stomach.  Is there any caffa left?"

            I handed her my half-empty mug.  Rian sniffed it, then stuck out her tongue and handed it back to me.   I continued to drink it.

            "Do you intend to just brush off everything that I've been saying to you?" Bastila demanded.  "If you were younger the Jedi might have taken you for training."

            "What are you trying to say?"  Rian finally turned her attention to the Jedi.

            With all eyes on her, Bastila clammed up.  "I'm sorry." she murmured.  "I've overstepped my authority.  I'm speaking of things that are best left to the Jedi Council."

            Rian rolled her eyes.  "Alright, we've got to meet Canderous with those codes."  She directed her gaze to me.  "Are you ready?"

            "Just me?" I asked.  "Aren't the chances better the higher the numbers?"

            "Canderous only wants me." Rian replied.  "I don't want to take any chances.  The Sith might recognize Bastila; Canderous might recognize Mission and Zaalbar from the Lower City.  You're a fresh face.  Besides,"  She flashed a lopsided smirk.  "you've already proved you're good at playing slave."

            I groaned.  "Do I get an upgrade from eunuch this time?"

            "That depends." she said slowly.  "How well can you obey my every word?"

            "I'm beginning to prefer the idea of being a eunuch." I retorted.

            "Let's get moving." Rian urged.  "Unless you want that to be arranged."

            We headed out of the apartment and towards the Lower City.  Rian began to whistle casually, which made me nervous.  I was suddenly struck with a sense of foreboding.

            "Hey, Rian." I called out in front of the elevators.

            "Hmm?"  She looked at me as she stepped inside. 

            Her eyes were definitely opened wider than they naturally would be.  Just what was she playing at?

            "Just who is this Canderous guy, anyway?" I asked.  I joined her in the elevator.

            Rian shrugged.  "Some guy who works for Davik Kang and the Exchange." she offered.

            "No."  I shook my head.  "I didn't mean that.  Who is he?  What's his family name?"

            "How should I know?" she asked. 

            "Well, he's your contact." I argued.

            "I don't know."  Rian looked flustered.  "Something with an 'O,' okay?"

            "You're hiding something from me, aren't you?" I demanded.

            "Maybe."

            "Don't you 'maybe' me, sister!" I growled.

            The elevator door opened and Rian hurried out.  I stormed after her.

            "Answer me, Rian." I insisted.

            She looked at me and sighed.  "Ordo, okay?  His last name is Ordo.  Are you happy?"

            Ordo?  I couldn't place the name, but it did sound familiar.  It was foreign, probably alien.  The knowledge certainly didn't do anything to ease my tension.

            "What does he look like?" I asked finally.

            "What?"  Rian smirked.  "Do you want to know if he's cuter than you are?"

            "Well, that would be pretty hard for him to accomplish." I retorted, dryly.  "I'm just curious."

            "He's everything you are and everything you're not." she answered cryptically.  She must have been hanging around Bastila too much.

            "And what is that supposed to mean?"

            "Well, he's a big soldier, just like you." Rian said slowly.  "But it shows on him."

            "It doesn't show on me?"  I raised an eyebrow.

            She laughed.  "I don't doubt your ability.  It's just, well…"

            "Well what?"

            "You have a soft face." she finally managed to say between giggles.  "I think it has to do with your impeccably trimmed goatee."

            "I always liked it." I muttered.  My face felt hot as I ran a hand over my _impeccable_ goatee.  "You think I should lose it?"

            "No."  Rian shook her head.  "It suits you.  I think what I meant is that compared to Canderous…  I mean the guy looks like he eats rocks for breakfast."

            When we arrived at Javyar's Cantina I felt the blood pound in my temples as soon as I caught sight of Canderous Ordo.  It dawned on me as soon as I looked at that man's grizzled face why the name "Ordo" was so familiar.  It was Mandalorian.

            My eyes tore into Rian's.  She gave me a weak smile in return.

            "I figured you'd be back." Canderous' tone was casual as he flicked the straw in his drink.  "Neither one of us is getting off this planet unless we work together.  Now, I know the Sith military base had a break in.  I know it was you.  I know you've got those departure codes I need.  So what do you say?  We join forces and I can get you inside Davik's base and right to the Ebon Hawk."

            Rian shot me a glance.  Her mouth was twisted and sour, like she wanted to be ill.  I sighed and nodded.  She turned back to Canderous.

            "Okay, let's join up." she said.

            "Who's that?"  Canderous pointed at my chest.

            "He's my slave."  Rian sounded defensive.

            "If you say so."  Canderous smirked in my direction.  "Davik's always looking to recruit new talent.  I'll tell him how you won that swoop race and mention that you're interested in working for the Exchange.  I'll say I brought you in so he could check you out.  He'll have you stay at his estate for a couple of days while he runs some background checks on you.  Standard procedure."

            That sounded risky.  Inside Davik's stronghold we'd be at his mercy.  But at the same time, we were desperate if the plan was simple, it might just work.

            "While Davik's checking you out," Canderous continued briskly.  "we steal the Ebon Hawk and escape Taris.  I've got an airspeeder nearby to take us to Davik's estate.  The sooner we're off Taris, the better."

            I had to agree with him on that one.  We followed the Mandalorian out of the back of the cantina and to his speeder.  Canderous didn't bother us with small talk and we were the better for it.


	40. Escape From Taris

Rian:

            "Canderous has been gone for a long time."  Carth changed the charge in his blaster for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

            "He's in a meeting with Davik Kang and Calo Nord." I said, agitated.  "He'll be back as soon as he can."

            "You know I don't like this."

            I ignored him.  I felt uneasy at Davik's estate too, but I didn't feel the need to blather on about it.  All the tacky purple velvet upholstery gave the place the atmosphere of a brothel rather than the guest wing.  I could live with that.  What I couldn't deal with, was the idea that I have been watched, was most definitely still being watched and in all likelihoods would continue to be watched in the future.

            My introduction to Davik Kang went fairly well.  He had caught me off guard which irked me, but I think I handled it nicely.

_            "I ran into someone the Exchange might want to recruit." Canderous began.  "You may have heard something of her exploits already."_

_            Davik eyed me up and down scrupulously, spending a bit more time on my backside than I would have liked.  "Ah, yes, I recognize your companion." he murmured.  "The rider who won the big swoop race.  Very impressive, as was your display in the rather heated battle afterwards.  But tell me, weren't you wounded in the fight?"_

_            I ground my teeth.  "Do I look injured, sir?" I asked, my voice clipped.  "I can assure you that I am in top condition as we speak."_

_            Davik continued to scan me with his eyes.  "It appears so." he said finally.  "Perhaps I was mistaken."_

            I would have liked to tear those beady eyes from Davik's head.  As it was, I was supposed to wait for my background check and indulge in the luxuries he so generously offered.  Of course, if I so much as stepped outside of the guest wing I'm sure my head would be filled with an excessive number of blaster holes. 

            "That's it." Carth announced.  "I'm going to see what's up.  I can't wait around for Davik to decide to kill us."

            "If you so much as leave this guest wing for five seconds without Canderous, I'll lodge my foot in the first orifice of yours that I can find." I warned.  "So why don't you relax a little.  Go to the slave quarters, get a massage."

            Carth chuckled.  "Hey, I'd like a massage as much as the next guy, but we've got work to do."  He went back to his blasters.

            For some reason, that simple repetitive gesture pushed me over the edge.  I walked over to Carth and snatched the blasters from his hands.  I held them behind my back.

            "What?" he demanded.

            "I just want to talk." I snapped.

            "Oh?"  Carth folded his arms.  "You want to argue some more, is that it?"

            "I'm always up for a good fight."  I shot him a feral grin.

            He laughed.  "I can't say I've met a woman quite like you before." Carth mused.  "You're really something."

            The glint in his eyes faded as Carth grew serious.  I ground my teeth together.  Things had been going so well until he remembered that he was a paranoid jerk.

            "I just don't trust easily and for good reasons." Carth insisted.  "…which are my own."

            I swore in a random language, probably Quarren, before I backed him against a wall.  "I can make you talk, Carth.  Trust me." I promised.

            "I might be willing to take you up on that challenge."

            The grin died on Carth's face when he felt his own blasters being pressed against his abdomen.  I thumbed the settings down to stun.

            "Maybe not."  He cleared his throat.  "You're just not going to let up, are you?  Fine.  You want to know why I don't trust anyone?  Here goes."

            I felt his hands on my own, thick fingered, callused and warm.  He gently pried his blasters from my hands.

            "Five years ago the Jedi had just finished the war with the Mandalorians.  Revan and Malak were heroes." Carth began.  "I was damn proud to have served in their fleet.  It was completely unexpected when they turned on us, invading the Republic while we were still weak.  Nobody knew what to think, least of all me.

            "Our heroes had become brutal, conquering Sith and we were all but helpless before them."  Carth's stare was hard as he looked me in the eyes.  "Think about it.  If you can't trust the best of the Jedi, who can you trust?"

            "What do I have to do with Malak and Revan?"  My voice was soft.

            "It's not that."  He shook his head.  "It's… that's not what I mean.  There were others.  Good, solid, trusted men who joined them.  Malak and Revan and the Sith deserve to die for what they've done…"

            Carth glanced over my shoulder anxiously.  There was no one there.  I looked at him expectantly.

            "The ones that fled the Republic and joined them are even worse."  His eyes darkened and rage seemed to take over his speech.  "The Dark Side has nothing to do with why they joined the Sith.  They deserve no mercy!"

            I took a few steps back which allowed him to start pacing.

            "You say that with such hatred." I murmured.

            "I know."  Carth looked back at me.  "I should apologize to you.  I've become so accustomed to expecting the worst in others and you've done nothing to deserve that.  It's just… never mind."

            "Never mind what?"  I placed my hands firmly on my hips.

            "I'd rather not talk about it right now." he muttered.

            "Does that mean I could convince you otherwise?" I pressed.

            "No." was his hoarse reply.

            We stood there is silence.  If Carth Onasi wasn't so damn irritating I might have had the decency to say he was cute.  He fixed the settings on his blasters.

            "So, about Davik's slave girls…" I trailed off.

            Carth raised an eyebrow in my direction.  I shrugged.

            "Are you still going to stay on Taris after this?" he asked.

            "Maybe." I said.  "It might be better to head directly to Corellia if I'm going to be stealing Davik Kang's ship, though.  Taris is on a dying trade route anyway."

            Carth nodded.

            The door slid open and Canderous Ordo stepped in.  Carth pointed a finger at him.

            "What took you so long?"

            The rocky planes of Canderous' face seemed to crack as he smirked.  "You might want to tighten your slave's leash." he advised me.

            "He's just angry because he's a eunuch." I replied.

            "Sorry for the delay, but the Ebon Hawk has a coded security system."  Canderous said briskly.  "While you two were waiting, I was busy plying the information from Davik's favorite courtesan."

            Carth rolled his eyes.  I scowled at him.  Canderous ignored us both.

            "Now all we need to do is swipe the ship and—"

            "Pick up the rest of our friends." Carth said firmly.

            Canderous raised an eyebrow.  "Pick up the rest of your group and get off this planet.  Now come on, there's no sense in waiting around here."

            "Lead the way." I muttered.

            We left the relative safety of the guest wing and headed towards the heart of the estate.  I didn't bother saying anything to Carth, he looked like he would rather shoot than talk.  Canderous on the other hand, moved with an almost feline grace.  The calm professionalism that enveloped the Mandalorian made me feel at ease in the dangerous situation.  Most of the guards were taken out with Canderous' precise aim before they even realized they were being attacked.

            With Canderous in the lead, we were able to take the most direct route to the hangar.  A good thing too, since it sounded like something nasty was happening outside.  The walls began to shake and lamps were knocked to the floor.

            We reached the hangar doors and Canderous entered the codes.  The door slid open and I scowled.  It looked like Davik and Calo were making a beeline for the Ebon Hawk.

            "Thieves in the hangar!" Davik shouted.  "So you figured you'd just steal my ship for your getaway and leave me high and dry while the Sith turn this planet into dust?  Sorry, but that ain't going to happen."

            "And what did you figure?" I screamed back.  "That you'd just slip out without us so you could get wasted by the Sith automated defense guns?"  Really, some people weren't too bright.

            "I'll take care of them, Davik." Calo said quietly.  He looked directly at Canderous.  "I've been looking forward to this for a long time!"

            "Make it quick, Calo." Davik cried over the sound of turbo laser fire.  "The Sith mean business."

            So, one mercenary and his dinky little boss, versus a Mandalorian, a trigger happy soldier and little old me.  I love it when the odds play in my favor.  Canderous whipped out his massive repeating blaster and opened fire at Calo.  While Carth backed up Canderous, I headed straight for Davik Kang.

            "I would have really enjoyed working with you."  Davik heaved his vibroblade at me.

            I parried.  "Sorry pal, you're not my type."

            As our vibroblades crashed against each other, I notice beads of perspiration from Davik.  The crime lord must have spent too much time indulging in his luxuries instead of practicing his swordsmanship.  He'd slip up soon and then he'd be dead.

            He lunged for my head and left his entire midsection open.  I ducked and ran him through.  I turned to Calo.

            "You may have me outnumbered and outgunned," Calo declared.  "but I'm taking all you with me!  This thermal detonator will blow us all to bits!"

            "Shit!"  I ran towards the Ebon Hawk.

            Fortunately that was the moment the ceiling decided to cave in.  Calo didn't have a chance to set off the detonator before he became a smear mark in the mass of rubble.  Of course, being so close to Calo Nord was not a good place for me to be.  As I ran towards the ship I was struck in the back by a hunk of debris and was propelled face first into the side of the Ebon Hawk.  I slid off the ship onto my back.

            I felt a hand around my waist.

            "Do you still want to stay on Taris?"  Carth grinned as he hoisted me aboard the Ebon Hawk.

            I ground my teeth together.  "Shut up."


	41. In Transit

Rian:

            "We have to pick up our friends!"

            _What's are__ you doing?  The ground troops are still in place.  Abort this mission!  I command you!  Abort!_

            "If we stop to pick them up we risk getting killed!"

            "If we don't pick them up, they will get killed!"

            _I need help!  I can't breathe!_

            "Force!  You pilot as well as a maimed bantha!"

            _Everyone gather around!  We need to protect Gadon!_

            "That's it!  Move over, I'll pilot."

            _Not like this.  I can't die like this!_

            "Hurry!  We've got to get out of here!"

            _Mama!_

            Blackness.  Temporary as it was, the pain was too loud, too vividly real.  I had to back away.  Let it all fade to black…

_            "Grandad!"  The child's hands were plump and pink as she clung to the older man's leg._

_            Grandad chuckled and ran a hand through the child's hair.  She beamed up at him and tightened her grip around his calf.  He walked to a chair and hauled the small girl, still attached to his leg, with him._

_            He sat in the high backed wooden chair and pried the child from his ankle.  The girl frowned briefly until Grandad set her in his lap.  She snuggled into him and tried to plant a kiss on his cheek, but when she realized she wasn't seated high enough, settled for his collarbone instead._

_            Grandad started to brush her hair.  The child began to squirm and holler, but it was too late.  The old man had pinned her to his lap with one arm._

_            "Hush, child.  I'll be done be done quicker if you stop struggling." he murmured._

_            The child was immune to his logic.  She shrieked and kicked her legs into his knees._

_            "You can't go running about with your hair a tangled mess." Grandad said his tone stern._

_            "Then cut it off!" she bellowed.  "I don't want it anymore!"_

_            "Nonsense." he replied.  "Anyway, while you were busy having a tantrum, I finished brushing your hair.  It wasn't so bad, now was it?"_

_            The girl snorted and crossed her arms.  Grandad swallowed his laughter and started to twist her sleek black hair into a braid._

_            "Do you know why I came to see you?" he asked._

_            "Because you brought me treats." The girl replied, a wide smile on her round face.  "They're in your right pocket."_

_            "Have I become that predictable?"  Grandad reached into his pocket and pulled the candies out.  _

_            He kept one for himself and gave the child two.  The child in turn, devoured one immediately and placed the second in her pocket for later._

_            "I've come to tell you something, little one."  Grandad secured the girl's pleat with a red ribbon.  "Something important."_

_            The girl looked at him.  A sticky green smear from the sweet coated her upper lip.  Grandad traced her nose with his index finger._

_            "You're going to begin training soon, so I'm going to have to treat you like everyone else." he said.  "I'm not going to be able to visit you anymore with treats."_

_            "But Grandad!" she protested._

_            "No." he cut in firmly.  "You can't call me Grandad anymore, either.  You'll always be my favorite, we just can't act like it."_

            No, my brain said this memory was wrong.  I had to go to the next one.

            Click.

_            "Mister!  Please, help my mama!"  The child reached up and tugged at the hem of the older man's robes._

_            "Calm down, child.  Tell me what the problem is?"  The man knelt before the little girl and wiped the dirt from her forehead with a handkerchief._

_            "Mama's sick, no one will come near the house."  The child's lower lip trembled but her violet eyes didn't convey the fear they should have._

_            "I suppose I could take a look." the man murmured.  "You lead Grandad to your mama."_

_            The child nodded and reached for his gnarled hand.  She led him through the crowded streets until they reached what appeared to be a derelict building._

_            Inside, the building was tidy, but sparsely furnished.  There was a woman lying on a mat in the corner of the room covered by a blanket.  The man left the child in the doorway and continued on by himself._

_            The old man shook his head when he pulled the blanket back.  Patches of purple scabs covered her jaundiced skin and her glassy eyes were vacant.  He placed the blanket back over her face._

            Wait, Mother wasn't dead.  That was another wrong memory.  Go back.

            Click.

_            The old man gave a sympathetic smile as he pulled the blanket back.  The woman coughed and appeared genuinely shocked at his presence._

_            "Sir, what are you doing here?" she asked._

_            "Quiet, you need to reserve your strength." he said._

_            "You don't understand." she wheezed.  "It's contagious.  I sent my daughter to look for help to keep her away from me.  I didn't think that anyone would be foolish enough to try to help."_

_            "Hush, child." he replied.  "This will be done quicker if you don't fight me."_

_            "Just make sure my baby stays away." the woman insisted._

_            "Of course." said the man.  "Now close your eyes.  I want you to breathe in and out slowly and concentrate on nothing.  That's it."_

_            Several minutes passed before the man stood.  He walked towards the child._

_            "What did you do?" the girl asked._

_            "Your mama's going to be fine." the man said.  "She'll be very weak and hungry when she wakes.  So I want you to take these credits and buy bread and vegetables for your mama."  He pressed the money into the child's hands.  "But save enough for some treats for yourself."_

            No, that was wrong as well.  Or was it?

            Click.

_            "Mama, look at that strange old man."  The child stood on the seat of a leather sofa and peered out the window.  "He's wearing a dress!"_

_            "It's a robe, little one, not a dress." her mother replied.  "You know that it's not polite to make fun of others."_

_            "I can't help it that he looks funny." the girl said matter-of-factly._

_            "It's time for bed." her mother said._

_            The child sighed, but scurried into her mother's lap.  Once she was snug in the lap, the girl traced the embroidery of her mother's silk skirt with a careless finger._

_            "I'm not tired." the child announced._

_            "Will you go to sleep if I sing to you?" her mother asked._

_            "Okay." the girl sighed._

_            Her mother began to hum while the child smiled.  The melody was melancholy and eerie and seemed perfectly suited to the mother's mezzo-soprano.  The mother let her daughter's braid out as she sang._

            That one.  That one was the right one.  I think.  I guess it was time that I opened my eyes.

            "Hey, she's finally awake!"

            Mission leapt onto the cot and threw her arms around me.  I groaned.

            "Are you okay?" she asked.  "I was worried for a while."

            "I feel like I got trampled by a herd of bantha." I muttered.

            "Carth told us what happened." Mission said.

            "What exactly did happen?" I wondered.  I sat up and realized that I must have been in the Ebon Hawk's medical bay.

            "You got hit with some rubble during the bombing." Mission explained solemnly.  "Your armor kept you from breaking anything but you were bruised up pretty bad.  But still, that was no reason for you to pass out and start shaking."

            "I did that?"

            Mission nodded.  The serious expression on her face almost made me laugh.

            "Big Z, Teethree and me have been taking care of you since then." 

            "Oh."  I had hoped that in the chaos they would have forgotten to take that worthless droid along.  Oh well.

            A smile cracked her lips.  "Carth probably would've been here too, but he doesn't trust anyone else to pilot the ship."

            "What makes you think he'd come and check on me?" I asked.

            Mission laughed.  "He's practically been foaming at the mouth since you passed out.  It doesn't help that Bastila seems to know more than she's letting on."

            "Carth doesn't know enough to ignore Bastila yet." I mumbled.

            Mission raised an eyebrow at me, but said nothing.

            "Where are we headed, anyway?" I questioned.

            "Dantooine." Mission answered.  "Bastila says there's a Jedi enclave there."

            "As if one damned Jedi isn't bad enough." I grumbled.  "I could really use some caffa."

            I stumbled out of the bed.  Mission held her arms out to try and support me but I brushed her away.  I staggered into the main room of the Ebon Hawk.

            Bastila was seated by herself at the table in the center of the room.  She jerked up from what she was doing and quickly hit a switch.

            "You should be resting." she blurted out.

            "Not on an empty stomach."  I took the seat next to her.  "What have you been up to?"

            "I just sent a message to the council." she muttered.  Her fingers drummed along the top of the table.

            "So, after we get you safe and sound to Dantooine, do you still intend to send Echani mercs after me?" I asked.

            "Why?" Bastila replied.  "Do you still mean to run away from all this?"

            "I'm not running away." I growled.

            "Is that so?"  Bastila raised an eyebrow.

            "Look, just because I choose to walk away from something, it gives you no right to brand me a coward."  Maybe it was just the acoustics of the circular room, but it sounded like my voice was rising.  "Walking is different than running."

            "I see." said Bastila.

            I groaned.  "I didn't come out here to argue with you, you know." I said.  "I just wanted to find some caffa."

            "I believe that the Wookiee had made something a little earlier." she replied.  "The Mandalorian tried some, but I think only swallowed it for the sake of his ego."

            "So are you saying I should or shouldn't drink it?" I asked dryly.

            "Perhaps you should rest more." Bastila suggested.  "It's not everyday that one experiences the death of a planet."

            "I just need some food in me." I grumbled.  "Not more rest."

            "So you say." Bastila sighed.  "You should probably talk to Carth at any rate.  That man worries far too much."

            "There is no talking to that man." I muttered.  "I'd rather bash my head into a wall."

            "Yet you say this as you're headed towards the cockpit." Bastila retorted.  She didn't even bother to look up.

            I tried to think of something witty to reply to her with, but couldn't.  I settled for sticking my tongue out at her.  If Bastila saw, then she ignored me.  I walked to the cockpit.

            Carth was in the pilot's seat and appeared to be completely engrossed with some random navigational equipment.  I leaned on the doorframe and watched him.  Carth wore the orange jacket now, albeit with a scorched hole in the shoulder.  Maybe I should've offered to patch it up or something if it meant that much to him.

            The muscles in his neck stiffened and he twisted around to face me.  Shock was quickly replaced by relief in his features.

            "What are you doing up?" he asked.

            "Resting." I replied.  "So don't tell me I need anymore of it.  Is it true you're refusing to let anyone else pilot this flying bucket?"

            "I would," he yawned.  "if I could find someone qualified."

            "Right now, a half-dead show-off is the best option we've got?" I teased.

            "I'm fine." Carth insisted.  He rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

            "I'm sure."  I walked over and gripped his chin firmly in my hand.  I tilted his head up to face me.

            Carth shot me an angry look, but the sagging purple bags beneath his red rimmed eyes were all I needed to see.  The idiot was exhausted.

            "How long have you been up?" I asked.

            "It doesn't matter."  He brushed my hand away.

            "It matters to me if you fall asleep and steer us into an asteroid field."  I crossed my arms.

            "That won't happen." Carth snorted.  "We're in hyperdrive right now.  Nothing's going to happen until we reach the coordinates outside Dantooine's atmosphere."

            "Then go to sleep." I commanded.

            "But what if something happens?" he protested.

            "I'm watching things now." I assured him.  "If something blows up, I'll wake you."

            "No thanks."   Carth smirked.  "I'd rather stay up and keep an eye on things."

            "Then I'm going to stay here and keep an eye on you." I said. 

            Carth laughed.  "Then I should have no problem staying up.  There's no way I could fall asleep with your big mouth hanging around."

            I ground my teeth.  "Nerf-herder."


	42. The Masters

Bastila:

            Dantooine, it seemed like a lifetime since I last set foot on her surface, though in truth it had only been a few months.  As soon as I felt the slight rumbling halt as the Ebon Hawk left hyperdrive, I desperately wanted to get out of the ship.

            I left the main room and headed directly towards the cockpit.  Carth and Rian were seated side by side.  Rian looked up, in one hand was a mug of caffa.  With her free hand she pressed a finger against her lips.

            "Shhh."  With her eyes, she directed my gaze over to Carth crumpled face down on a control panel.

            "Is he?"           

            "Uh huh." she whispered.  "The idiot completely exhausted himself."

            "I see." I murmured.  "Are you the one piloting the Ebon Hawk, then?"

            Rian grinned sheepishly.  I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.

            "I think Canderous knows how to pilot this thing." she replied.

            I could feel a pulse at my temples.  If I didn't take a few evenly spaced breaths soon I would have a full blown migraine.  "I'll do it." I muttered.

            I reached over Carth's head for the control panel.  The soldier stirred and immediately jolted upright.

            "Easy there, pal." Rian said.  "We're just trying to direct the ship into Dantooine's atmosphere."

            "Atmosphere?" Carth sounded dazed.  "I told you not to let me fall asleep."

            "And I told you that you needed sleep." Rian replied.

            "Could you please just allow me to make sure the Ebon Hawk is at the correct angle to fly through the atmosphere?" I interrupted.

            Rian leaned back into the autopilot's chair.  Carth caught a yawn with the palm of his hand and quickly began to turn random knobs on the panel.

            "Carth, you don't have to do all the work." I interjected.  "I know how to pilot ships as well."

            "I'm sure you do."  He didn't look at me as he recalibrated the ship's angle of descent.  "But I'm already in the pilot's seat so I'll handle it."

            A fierce stab of anger emanated from Rian but she kept silent.  I realized that was probably the reason as to why I felt so uncomfortable around her.  The woman was a maelstrom of unrestrained emotions.  With the way rage, greed, lust and amusement churned about her, it was wonder at times how Rian could maintain a straight face.

            It disturbed me to no end, but at the same time she was too powerful.  I couldn't simply shut her thoughts out like I normally could with others.  Perhaps the council would have a suggestion with how to handle the situation.  Or even better, maybe they would reassign me far from the violet eyed woman.

            From the Ebon Hawk's viewport, Dantooine slowly evolved from a blue-green ball to a rolling landscape of grassy fields.  Dust was blasted into the air as the ship landed in the docking bay to the Jedi enclave.  I was finally home.

            "Bastila, I was wondering something."  Carth snatched the caffa mug from Rian's hands and began to sip it.  "How did the Vulkars manage to capture a famous Jedi like you?  Were you knocked out when your escape pod crashed?"

            Rian scowled and reached for her caffa.  Carth playfully swatted her hand away.  She glowered, but I could sense that she got some sort of enjoyment out of the exchange.  Disturbing.

            "No, I was conscious." I explained.  "But my Force powers were exhausted from using my Battle Meditation in the battle for the Endar Spire.  Without my help, you might never have gotten off the ship alive."

            Rian rolled her eyes.

            "Fair enough."  Carth nodded.  "But I've seen you Jedi in action, there's no way those thugs would have stood a chance against your lightsaber."

            "My lightsaber was misplaced." I replied. 

            It was a beautiful piece of work too.  I had spent more than an hour perfecting the crystal's calibration so that the yellow beam of light would be as attractive as it was deadly.  I was sure it had been destroyed when the Sith bombed Taris.

            "I couldn't find it after the crash."  I sighed.  "I looked everywhere in that pod.  The Vulkars came and overwhelmed me even as I was searching for my weapon."

            "Wait a minute, let me get this straight.  You lost your lightsaber."  Carth smirked.  "I mean, isn't that a violation of some kind of Jedi code or something?"

            Rian seemed to be getting as much  pleasure from my embarrassment as Carth.  "Maybe losing lightsabers is a side-effect of her Battle Meditation." she suggested.

            Heat burned in my ears.  "This is no laughing matter!" I snapped.  "During the crash my lightsaber must have, it must have fallen from my belt and rolled under my seat!  The Vulkars probably found it there when they searched the wreckage."

            "The Vulkars must not have searched very hard."  Carth's dark eyes were filled with mirth.

            "What are you talking about?" I demanded.

            Carth looked over at Rian.  She frowned, but he faced her with a hard look.  She groaned and began to dig through her back pocket.  I saw the glint of my metal lightsaber hilt as she held it, albeit while sulking, in front of me.

            I tore it immediately from her fingertips.  "When did you find this?"

            "I scavenged your pod wreckage with Zaalbar a while back."  Rian shrugged.  "I figured I'd hang on to it until you needed it."

            "I needed it Taris!"  I wouldn't yell.  I was above that.  _There is no emotion; there is peace._

            "Why did you need it?" Rian hissed.  "I was the one who had to face off against the Sith governor, not you."

            Carth laughed.  I silenced his immature giggling with a glare.

            "Hey, hey, hey," he said.  "I'm sorry.  It's just funny to think of a legendary Jedi losing her lightsaber.  Take my advice, this is one detail you might want to keep out of the history texts."

            Rian stifled a chuckle with the back of her hand.  I took a deep breath.

            "I hardly consider myself a legend, Carth." I reprimanded.  "Though I will consider your advice when I relate these events to the Jedi council.  There is no need for them to know every detail of what transpired."

            I attached my lightsaber to my belt.  The three of us in the cockpit stared at one another in an uncomfortable silence.  Carth finally cleared his throat.

            "Now that we're on Dantooine, I'm going to try and get hold of the Republic." he said.  He quickly excused himself and left for the main room.

            That left me alone with _her._  I closed my eyes and counted to ten.  When I opened my eyes I realized that Rian was gazing at me intently.  I tried to smile.

            "I must go speak with the council." I informed her.  "I need their advice on recent developments.  After I have met with them I will meet you outside the ship."

            I turned away from her quickly.  That slightly amused look that she projected while her innermost emotions said otherwise made me want to gnash my teeth.  I hurried from the cockpit and exited the Ebon Hawk as quickly as possible.

            At the mouth to the Jedi enclave I was met by the Twi'lek knight, Deesra.  I bowed and let him guide into the inner chambers of the enclave.  Deesra was always able to calm me.  Quiet and polite, the green skinned Jedi even had the decency to keep his lekku still in the presence of non-Twi'leks.

            I kept my eyes focused on the back of Deesra's head.  The last thing that I needed at the moment was to glance at a fellow Padawan in the eyes.  Ever since I manifested a talent for Battle Meditation I would catch the occasional glint of either resentment or zealous admiration in my peers.  I couldn't stop them from ostracizing me, but I didn't have to pay attention to it.

            Once inside the council hall, Deesra bowed and excused himself.  I noted that Master Vandar, Master Vrook, Master Zhar and Master Dorak were accounted for.  I hadn't thought that my arrival would have been important enough for the entire Jedi council of Dantooine to gather.

            "Welcome back, Padawan." Master Zhar greeted.

            I bowed.

            "Your trials as of late must have been upsetting to say the least."  Master Vandar offered a lukewarm smile.  "We are relieved to see that you have returned to us unharmed."

            Masters Dorak and Vrook were silent for the moment.  I was embarrassed to admit that I was pleased that Master Vrook had chosen not to speak.  The hard line across his face that was his mouth always seemed to frown even when the older man was meditating.  Nothing that he ever said was genuinely nice if he could help it.

            Master Dorak on the other hand was the only truly amiable one.  His dark eyes glittered with a restrained smile.  Why wouldn't he say anything?

            "We are very interested in hearing about your escape from both the Endar Spire and Taris." Master Zhar said.

            "Where should I begin?" I asked quietly.

            "At the beginning." Master Zhar urged.  "We will direct you further if anything should arise."

            I took a deep breath and began.  I told them of the arrangements on the Endar Spire, of the Sith attack and the frantic plunge into Taris' atmosphere.  I mentioned that I was captured by the Black Vulkars, but I heeded Carth's advice and avoided the details.

            The four masters stood silently and would nod their heads occasionally.  As soon as I mentioned _her_, however, their calm seemed to dissipate.

            "Why did you not say earlier that you have Rian Vega with you?" Master Vrook demanded.

            Master Vandar's pointy green ears twitched.  He placed a hand on Master Vrook's arm.  "Peace, Vrook."  Master Vandar commanded.  "We told the Padawan to start at the beginning and she did."

            "This is indeed an important turn of events." Master Zhar murmured.  The Lethan Twi'lek's lekku shifted.

            "Why did you not bring her into the enclave along with yourself?" Master Dorak asked.

            "Because Rian Vega is not a Jedi." Master Vrook answered sharply.  "You are too hasty, Dorak."

            "We should not trouble Bastila with this discussion." Master Vandar gently interrupted.  "Tell us, Padawan, how is Rian Vega faring?"

            I answered as best I could.  The masters proceeded to drain me of every granule of knowledge I had on the other woman.  Yes, she helped me escape from the Black Vulkars.  Yes, she formatted a successful plan to escape Taris.  No, she didn't appear to be a threat as far as I could see.  I still didn't have to rest easy in her company.

            I was almost afraid to tell them of the reoccurring dream.  The first time it surfaced was the night after I was free of Brejik's grasp.  I knew what it had been all too clearly.  It was an image of the Jedi strike force that I had been a part of to capture the Dark Lord Revan.  I didn't think too much on it at first, I had just escaped from a traumatic experience so having a nightmare was understandable.  But it wasn't from my perspective.

            By chance I awoke from the nightmare one night to see Rian still dreaming.  She was thrashing and mumbling things.  With the Force sensitivity that she had, she must have been projecting her own nightmare into my head.  I was horrified.  There was no reason for Rian to have those images in her mind.

            The masters listened to this intently.  The creases in Master Vrook's leathery skin seemed to deepen.  Master Dorak had a wide-eyed look of amazement on his face, while Master Zhar simply nodded.  Master Vandar glanced at his peers before he turned to face me.

            "Rian Vega could prove to be an immeasurable asset to our cause." he said.  "We would like to meet with her."

            "You wish to speak with her?"  I kept a tight lid on my growing agitation.

            "Please fetch your friend, Padawan." Master Zhar affirmed.

            "Of course." I muttered.  I bowed quickly and left.

            What were the masters thinking?  It didn't matter how much of a potential asset Rian Vega could be, she also had the ability to become an equally impressive drawback.

            I suppose it didn't matter.  Whatever they planned to do with Rian, I was certain that I would be elsewhere.  My Battle Meditation was too important for me to become a babysitter for a repugnant woman.


	43. Impressing the Council

Carth:

"Now that we're on Dantooine, I'm going to try and get hold of the Republic." I backed out of the cockpit slowly. Hopefully I could escape those two without doing more damage.

I swear, I was going to have to corner Mission and force her to write me an "Angry Women" handbook. That way I would know when to say certain things and when to place my foot in my mouth to avoid having other people's feet placed in my nether regions. All I had wanted to do was make a little joke and open Bastila up a bit. Instead, I successfully created more animosity between Rian and the Jedi woman.

I noticed that I still had Rian's caffa mug in my hand and shook my head. After a few sips of that sludge I think my stomach was ready to be pumped. That woman really would eat anything.

The main room was empty so I took a seat and fiddled with the holo-vid projector. I typed in the coordinates and was soon flashed with the blue tinted visage of another man.

"Republic office of—"

He began uniformly enough. When he glanced up at me, however, his jaw hung open.

"Carth Onasi?" he spluttered. "Are you _the_ Carth Onasi?"

"Is there another one?" I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

"Well, no." the soldier said, solemnly. "But I have heard so much about your exploits during the Mandalorian Wars. It's a great honor to be talking to you, sir."

I massaged the bridge of my nose. "I'm flattered." I said. "Actually, I just finished up with an assignment and was curious as to what the higher-ups wanted from me next."

"Of course." The younger man nodded. He tried to cover his child-like giddiness with a serious expression. It didn't work. "Hold on a moment, sir."

The screen went blank for a moment, but the idiot must have been too excited to find a mute button. He gibbered on to his office buddies about "talking to Carth Onasi" until I was finally transferred over.

I blinked when I realized who I was going to be speaking with.

"Admiral Dodonna, it's an honor to be speaking with you." I murmured.

"I'm flattered, Onasi." she replied. "But save it. We've got more important things to talk about."

"What do you need to talk to me about?" I asked. "I just wanted to report on a completed assignment."

"That's precisely what I wanted to talk to you about." Her lips smiled, but the rest of her face remained flat. "Your assignment is far from over."

"What do you mean?" The caffa-sludge seemed to shift in my innards.

"I'm going to speak to you plainly." Admiral Dodonna pressed her hands together at their fingertips and gave me a hard stare. "I don't trust the Jedi, Onasi. They've developed half-truths into an art form. We were going to send someone over to keep an eye on their activities, but since you're already conveniently accompanied by Bastila Shan, you'll do."

"So let me get this straight." I swallowed a hard lump in my throat. "You want me to spy on the Jedi?"

"The way you say 'spy' makes it sound so derogatory." Admiral Dodonna replied. "You make it seem like we expect to find something horrible. I just want you there to keep the Jedi as honest as they claim to be."

"How long can I expect to be on this mission?" I asked.

"As long as it takes." she answered firmly.

"Understood." I grumbled.

"Oh, Onasi?" The older woman's brows furrowed for a fleeting moment.

"Yeah?"

"You look like crap. Get some sleep." The holo-vid flashed blue as Admiral Dodonna disconnected.

"Yes, Ma'am." I offered a salute to the empty screen.

I sighed. So the Republic wanted me to play at spy? And against Jedi no less! It could be worse, I guess. I should've been grateful that Admiral Dodonna didn't feel that it would be in the Republic's best interest for Carth Onasi to be dressed incognito as a Twi'lek dancing girl for his little spy masquerade.

Rian entered the main room. She walked over to me and held out an expectant hand. I placed her caffa mug back into it. A lethargic smile crossed her lips as she casually sipped at her caffa.

"I can't figure out how you manage to drink that and live, but you refuse to touch my caffa." I muttered.

"It's different." she said. "You put too much sugar in yours. It'll rot my teeth out."

"That toxic waste in a mug you've got will melt your insides out." I shot back.

"It's not so bad." Rian shrugged. "Wookiees can't be good at everything."

"Zaalbar made that and you're drinking it?" I felt sick just thinking about it. "I can go see if there's a doctor anywhere nearby."

"Don't bother." She grinned. "I'll probably be dead before you make it back."

"What should I tell Bastila when she finds your stinking corpse?" I scratched the stubble around my goatee.

"That I fought bravely and died valiantly." She took another sip of caffa.

"I'll remember that." I muttered. "And stop drinking that. It's disgusting."

Rian laughed. "What are you doing hanging around here, anyway? I thought once you got Bastila to Dantooine you were going to get reassigned."

"Why?" I asked. "Are you trying to get rid of me already?"

She raised an eyebrow. "As much as I appreciate all the flattery that you give my stinking corpse, I thought that you would be needed elsewhere."

"Actually, I was ordered to stay here." I said. "So that leaves me and Bastila here on Dantooine. What about everybody else?"

"What about everybody else?" Rian crossed her arms. Caffa sloshed over onto the holo-vid projector.

"What do you mean 'What about everybody else'?" I demanded. "I know where I'm stuck, what are you and everybody else going to do now?"

"Well, Zaalbar and his life-debt will follow me no matter what I do and Mission will follow Zaalbar no matter what he does." Her nostrils gave an agitated twitch. "And I bet Mission would love to bring that damn droid along."

"So, the four of you will be together." I said. "But where will you go?"

Rian slammed the rest of her caffa-sludge and set the mug down on top of the holo-vid projector. I took the mug down before it had a chance to smash all over the floor.

"Corellia." she replied. "Start up on the Corellian Run again. Mission's smart, if I can nip her cockiness she'll make a fine smuggler."

"Do you really think that's the sort of life that a fourteen year old should live?" I looked up at Rian.

She didn't even flinch. "Do you really think that she was living the sort of life that a fourteen year old should live on Taris?" she retorted.

"Who are you to make decisions regarding Mission's life?" I argued.

"I'm not." Rian snapped. "I'm making a decision for myself. It's Mission's choice to follow me."

"Look, I'm not trying to fight with you." I groaned.

"Then don't." she said. Rian glanced around the main room and asked, "Do you think Canderous or Bastila will have a problem with me keeping the Ebon Hawk?"

"Were you even planning on asking them before taking the ship?" I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"Maybe it would be a better idea to just take off with the ship." she reflected.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." I groaned.

Rian hopped up onto the table and crossed her legs. She had a smarmy grin on her face, but she kept quiet. I was definitely going to have to enlist Mission to write that handbook for me.

The metallic click of boot heels striking the floor made me turn my head. Bastila stood in the doorway; she rapped her knuckles against the door frame briskly.

The smile was still firmly in place on Rian's face, but I could feel the temperature in the room cool. She gazed at the Jedi expectantly.

Bastila looked frazzled. A lock of dark hair had fallen from her braids and it hung limply. She gnawed on her lower lip and her blue eyes darted from Rian to myself.

"I have spoken briefly with the council; they request an audience with you, Rian." Bastila said quietly. "We should go at once."

"An audience with the Jedi council?" I mused. "That's pretty unusual for someone who isn't even a Jedi. What's this all about, Bastila?"

She turned her head away from me. "I'm sorry, Carth, but I cannot tell you." she replied. "All I ask is that you trust in the Force and the wisdom of the Jedi council."

_And all I asked was for you to tell me what was going on_. I sighed. "Well, I don't like being left out of the loop, but I'm not looking to get you in any trouble with the Jedi Masters." I admitted. "We'll do things your way for a while."

Rian would tell me what was going on afterwards. If not voluntarily, I could probably ply her with booze to get her to talk. It's not that I wanted to do something underhanded like that, but I couldn't stand stumbling around blindly. I shouldn't have to think of ways to extract information anyway; I'd ask and she'd tell me. Especially if Rian knew it was something terrible enough to get a rise out of me.

"Come, they are expecting us." Bastila said. Without waiting to see if we followed, she turned on her heels and marched out of the Ebon Hawk.

I looked at Rian warily. As she sprang from the table top I caught the whiff of vanilla musk and caffa. I had to admit that she'd have a pleasant aroma if she would only scrub that caffa reek from her teeth.

"I'm coming with you." I told her.

"Suit yourself."

We entered the Jedi enclave without conflict. Bastila must have made a point to keep a good distance between us because as soon as Rian and I walked through the doors we saw Bastila disappear around a corner.

Rian was immediately stopped by another Jedi who berated her for not wearing the standard Padawan garb. I tried to politely intervene, but once again got shot down for attempting to play mediator between two angry women. The Jedi finally realized that Rian wasn't a fellow Padawan when she suggested that the other woman set herself on fire.

We followed the red and white tiled corridors until we found Bastila waiting outside the council room. We headed for it, but as soon as Rian walked through the door Bastila swiftly stepped in front of me and slammed the door in my face. I was beginning to yearn to be reassigned to someplace like Hoth.

_Great, what am I supposed to do now?_ I leaned up against the wall and tried to listen through the door. Not a single sound filtered through. The doors looked pretty pricey with geometric patterns worked into them. I wondered how much the Jedi Masters paid to have them installed. How did Jedi get paychecks, anyway? Was there some sort of "Masters of the Universe" fee they charged out to people just for being smug?

Maybe I worried too much about Rian and what would happen to her when she mouthed off to the wrong Jedi. I suppose it was good to worry for a change instead concentrating on other things.

I found it strange that I couldn't remember Morgana's face, yet his was burned into my memory. The sharp hawk nose on an otherwise seemingly kind visage came to mind immediately. His dark hair had begun to gray the last time I had seen him, but that was more than four years ago. Maybe his hair would be completely white the next time I laid my eyes on him, or his arthritis would have spread from his fingers to his wrists and back. It wouldn't matter; I'd still be able to recognize him. I'd tear his heart from his chest if I could.

_ "You never did cry for me, did you darling?"_

No, love, no I didn't. I couldn't, I refused to allow myself that beautiful luxury until that bastard was cold in the ground just like you.

I pulled myself back from my misery and looked at the closed door. So Admiral Dodonna thought this was important? She probably figured that I would be inside the council room and not nosing around outside it.

Their little meeting had taken too long for my tastes. Rudeness be damned, I opened the door.

Rian gave a flourish to the council as she bowed. One master practically had steam shooting from his pasty white ears as he fumed. The other human had a peculiar look of amusement on his face; his mouth was cinched tightly as if he was battling desperately to keep from smiling. The Twi'lek blinked slowly, and the other short green creature behaved as if he had expected what had just happened all along. Bastila was completely horrified.

Rian swaggered to the door and gave me a lopsided grin.

"What did you just do?" I demanded.

She laughed. "Apparently these old geezers want to make me a Jedi."


	44. Lessons

Canderous:

            It was too quiet.  The bickering wenches must have left the ship.  I reached into my pocket and found my metal cigarra case.  There were two of the good hand-rolled ones left, the rest were junk.

            I pushed the two hand-rolled ones aside and chose one of the others.  There was no telling what the quality of tobacco would be on this deplorable rock.  I'd save the hand-rolled cigarra's for dire emergencies until I could find a smoke shop that sold superior leaf.

            The sound of metal on metal caught my attention.  I looked to the door and saw the little astromech droid, T3-M4 roll in.

            "What do you want?" I barked.

            The droid blinked its main light and burbled.  I shook my head.  Mouthy little shit.

            I propped the cigarra in my lips.  "Got a light?" I asked.

            A panel in T3-M4's body slid open to reveal a flamethrower.  I shrugged and bent forward over the stream of flame that it spat out.

            "Thanks."  I inhaled the stale tasting leaf.  "Let's see how useful you are.  What else do you have on you?"

            T3-M4 chortled and displayed its small arsenal for me.  I perused the tools and weaponry it exhibited and nodded.

            "Not bad at all." I murmured.  "Have you ever upgraded a repeating blaster?"

            The droid whistled its reply.  I snorted and expelled a cloud of smoke at the bucket on wheels.  It bleated a crude remark.  I kicked it.

            T3-M4 gibbered and sped out of the room as fast as its gears would carry it.  I strode out after it.  A cherry ember drifted from the cigarra to the floor.  I watched it glow vividly red-orange before it faded to gray.

            I decided that I should explore my freshly pilfered ship.  Its former owner had a flair for excess, so I was positive that there would be plenty of contraband, I just had to know the right places to look.  I headed down the first corridor on my right.

            Before the crew's quarters, there was a supply room.  Davik had no reason to hide his spoils since he hadn't expected our ambush, so most of the interesting loot would probably be in there.  Unfortunately, there was also a Wookiee with his pet Twi'lek seated in the supply room.

            The blue-skinned girl was curled up tightly in the Wookiee's shaggy arms.  Her small fingers were twined around the hair on his chest and he rubbed her back in a fatherly manner.  I couldn't understand why someone with as much raw talent as that swoop rider would waste her time on two Tarisian street urchins.

            The Wookiee barred his teeth in a warning.  I blew a stream of cigarra smoke from my nostrils.  I had never bothered to learn how to make smoke rings or any other fancy display of idiocy.  It always seemed like a misuse of time and ability that should be applied elsewhere.  The Wookiee gave a low growl to reiterate his previous threat.

            I ignored him.  I walked over to the first footlocker.  It was locked, but I smashed it open easily with the butt of my blaster.  Fine wine from Alderaan, not a bad year either.  The swoop rider and her goggle-eyed boyfriend would probably appreciate the vintage bottles.  That left two supply closets, a box that appeared to have a state-of-the-art security system and a footlocker that the Wookiee was perched on.  The rest of the canisters were for food.

            The first supply closet was filled with a mishmash of bourbon, painkillers, whiskey and stim shots.  The second closet held the gaudiest piece of armor I'd ever laid eyes on.  Royal purple plate with a reinforced mesh underlay, I was sure that Davik Kang had to have paid a fortune for the ugly paint job.

            I wasn't even going to try and tackle the box with the security system, so that left the footlocker that the hairball and his underage girlfriend were sitting on.  I walked towards them and shot the Wookiee a look.  He glared back, apparently resolved to remain on top of my footlocker.

            I tossed my cigarra butt on the metal floor.  "Move." I said.

            The Wookiee snarled.  I noticed that his grip tightened on the Twi'lek.

            "I don't have time to play games.  Move." I commanded.

            The Twi'lek released her grip on the Wookiee's fur.  She turned to face me, her red-rimmed eyes narrowed and livid.  Not for the first time, I wondered why Davik passed up this petite beauty for his collection; perhaps she was too young, even for him.

            "What's your problem?" she demanded.  "Unless you look forward to Big Z tearing you limb from limb."

            "He's welcome to try, but I don't particularly like the smell of blaster fried Wookiee hair." I replied.  "Now move.  You can cry somewhere else."

            "I am not crying!" she sniffed defiantly.

            "Is this about what happened to Taris?"  I raised an eyebrow.

            "It's none of your business!" she hollered.

            It was beyond me why she would expend that much energy when a simple 'yes' would have sufficed.  "You're weak." I said.  "Planets are destroyed all the time.  Deal with it."

            "And you've been with too many diseased joy-girls!" she shot back.  "Just because you're a heartless scum-sucker doesn't mean that I have to be."

            "Listen, you mewling twit," My patience was slowly being drained away.  "I didn't come back here to coax you from your sniveling.  I want to go through the footlocker that you and your friend are sitting on."

            "Why don't you go choke on your blaster?" she taunted.  Her blue cheeks had slowly turned purple, however, so I knew she was getting far too worked up.

            I loaded a charge into my blaster.  "Have it your way, brat."

            The Wookiee stood up and tossed the girl behind him.  He roared and took an offensive stance.

            I shook my head.  "Pathetic."  I sidestepped him and opened the footlocker still warm from where he had been sitting.

            The footlocker was filled with cigarra cases.  Of course, the wrappers had all been tampered with, so there was no telling exactly what was in the cigarras.  I'd try one and depending on what they had been laced with and how much of it had been put in there, I would claim the footlocker as my own.

            Apparently, the Wookiee wasn't finished with me.   I grabbed his wrist as he went to grapple my head with his hands.  He was strong, I'd give him that.  I'd always been told stories of the ferocity of Wookiees.  I wondered how fierce this particular Wookiee could be.  With my other hand, I pointed the blaster at the Twi'lek girl.

            "Drop your hand, beast." I said.

            I caught a quick flash of sharp teeth and the glint of frenzied rage in the Wookiee's eyes before he howled.  He threw himself on top of me and I allowed him to send my repeating blaster hurtling across the room.  I still had a hunting knife in my boot if I really needed it.

            I fell onto my back and the Wookiee held me in a sort of lover's embrace.  His one hand was firmly around my throat and I could feel his claws rake against my windpipe.  He held his other hand high above my face, the claws unsheathed menacingly.

            I laughed.  "So this is how Wookiees fight, huh?" I asked.

            The Wookiee glanced at his raised hand and he hesitated for a moment.  Something was wrong.  The claws slowly retracted back into his furry fingers.  Instead, he stood, lifted me by my neck and chucked me into the wall.

            I felt a rib crack as I made contact with the metal wall.  I crashed headlong into a canister of grain.  My healing implant would mend the bone in a little under an hour, but as it was, I was going to have to breathe with more care for the moment.

            The Twi'lek had a vindicated smile on her lips.  I grinned back at her and her look immediately soured.  The child must not have understood yet.

            "What the hell is going on here?"  The swoop rider stalked into the room, her hands rigidly on her hips.

            She was followed by the Jedi dame, her robe cinched tight enough around her waist to accentuate her wide hips.  The pretty-boy pilot was next, tense shoulders, darting eyes and all.

            "That bloodthirsty maniac pointed his blaster at me so Big Z smashed his face in!" the Twi'lek screeched.

            "What were you doing?"  The swoop rider tore into me with her dark violet eyes.  The way she stalked towards me groin first was probably more masculine than a narrow hipped woman with short hair should dare. 

            I did my best to hide my amusement.  "I was trying to do an inventory of the ship's cargo." I replied.

            "What does that have to do with pointing a blaster at Mission?" the black haired woman asked.

            I shrugged.  "She wouldn't move.  It got her to move."

            Her boyfriend's face started to turn red.  She shot him a stern look before he could say anything.

            "Can I speak with you privately?"  From the look in her eyes, I knew it wasn't a question.

            "Sure."

            The swoop rider walked from the supply room and I followed her.  Behind us I could hear the Twi'lek jeer obscenely.  The swoop rider led me to the closest crew's quarters.  Once inside, she made sure the door was locked.

            "Don't bullshit me." She said simply.  "There's more that you're not telling me."

            "And what is it that you think I'm not telling you?" I asked.

            "If you just asked that kid to move, there wouldn't have been a problem." she replied.  "Yet somehow you managed to provoke a Wookiee to chuck you into a wall.  Why?"

            "Are you sure you want to know why?" I snorted.  I pushed the spike of pain from my broken out of my thoughts.

            "I asked, didn't I?" she said.

            "Curiosity." I admitted.  "It was a test of sorts.  I've heard tales of Wookiees being worthy combatants."

            "So you pointed a blaster at Mission?"

            I nodded.  "I told the Wookiee to back off."

            "But Zaalbar attacked." she stated.

            "Yeah."

            "What would have happened if Zaalbar did what you asked?" she wondered.

            "I would have shot the girl." I replied.  "If he backed down it would have shown that he was weak.  Having that child's fate on his shoulders would have been a valuable lesson to protect what he holds dear."

            "I see." she said quietly.

            "Do you?" I asked.

            She swallowed hard.  The harsh light in the cabin made the swoop rider's skin a dark yellow.

            "Listen, Bastila's claimed the Ebon Hawk in the name of the Jedi."  She gave an agitated sigh as she stuffed her hands into the back pockets of her khakis.  "There's no way you can leave this port on this ship without having an enclave of Jedi down your throat.  So for the time being, you're stuck with me."

            "What makes you think that I'm afraid of Jedi?" I demanded.

            "I never said that."  She pulled her hands from her pockets and crossed her arms.  "But pulling a stunt like stealing a Jedi ship outside of a packed Jedi enclave that has at least four Jedi Masters is just suicide.  So, unless you want to join up with one of those bands of Mandalorians roaming Dantooine, you're stuck with me."

            There were remnants of my people on Dantooine?  I suppose I could understand given the likeness that this planet had to our home.  My stay here could be interesting.

            "What's your point?"  I opened my cigarra case and selected one of the hand-rolled ones.

            "I won't put up with you threatening the lives of my group."  In her eyes I could see my own death.  "I know a couple of people on this ship would love to string you up just because you're a Mandalorian.  I haven't let them because I owe you for getting us out of Taris.  But don't let me catch you threatening any of my crew again.  If you want to kill something there are kath hounds outside the settlements.  Got me?"

            I struck a match and lit my cigarra.  "Yeah, I got you."  Every instinct told me to shoot the woman and be done with it.  But I didn't.  She had a harrowing battle-hardened look about her that had me intrigued for the moment.

            She nodded and her long bangs fell over her right eye.  "Good."  She left me alone in the crew's quarters.

            "I got you." I mumbled over the cigarra.  "But do you understand me?"


	45. Dreams and Visions

Bastila:

            _I was surrounded by worn limestone pillars.  The dim light cast deep shadows across the stone.  Was it a temple?  A necropolis?  I had never been there but I was being guided towards the heart of the structure.  Past the glyphs carved deeply into the limestone, ignore the ancient droid in the main room, the center held everything that I would seek._

_            The heavy stone door slid open with a groan and before me was…  I tried to choke the gasp in my throat.  I was so afraid that they would see me.  It was Malak, only he wasn't the Dark Lord yet, but a nervous Jedi Knight.  Malak's skin was a healthy shade of pink and he still had his original jaw.  He was being urged forward by a silent Revan._

_            "You don't need to do this." I murmured._

_            But they couldn't hear me.  They were transfixed by a hulking piece of machinery._

_            "Star Forge."_

_            Star Forge?  Is that what lured them to the Dark Side?  What were these ruins and more importantly, where were they?  The Masters would definitely want to know of this vital puzzle piece._

_            I glanced around the dusty floors, I looked for any piece of information that I could steal away with.  The glyphs!  I stared at them until my eyes ached, devoting memory to the alien lines..._

I bolted upright and my forehead crashed into the low ceiling of the bunk.  I immediately fell back from where I came.  To my right in the Ebon Hawk's crew quarters, Rian and Mission were both deep in sleep.  Mission snored loudly, while Rian thrashed, probably having nightmares like my own.

            I shivered as I slid from the bunk.  I needed to speak with the Masters before Rian woke.  I collected my Jedi robe folded neatly at the foot for the bed.  The simple worn material felt soothing as I secured it around myself at the waist.  I crept quietly from the room as to not wake the others.

            Carth was already up in the main room.  He was scowling over a cup of caffa, the rings under his eyes looked particularly harsh in the unforgiving light that the Ebon Hawk had.

            "Are you alright?" he asked.

            "I'm fine." I snipped.  "I must speak to the council at once."

            "I made some caffa if you want any." Carth offered.  "It's not the best, but it's better than what Zaalbar concocted yesterday."

            "No thank you." I declined.  "I need to talk to the Jedi Masters immediately.  When Rian wakes up, I would appreciate it if you directed her towards the Masters as well."

            Carth gave a lazy nod and turned back to his caffa.  I bit my lip and hurried from the Ebon Hawk.

            Dantooine's two moons were clearly visible overhead, but dawn was lurking.  Dew kissed the yellowed grass as I walked towards the enclave.  Deesra once again met me at the door.  I bowed before him.

            "You look distressed, Padawan." he noted.

            "Perhaps I am."  I massaged my temple with my hand.  "I must speak with one of the Masters.  It is of the utmost importance."

            Deesra nodded slowly.  "Follow me, Padawan."

            The green-skinned Twi'lek led me through the corridors of the enclave.  It seemed so peaceful here in the early hours.  I inhaled deep breaths of the sweet country air and tried to still my racing heart.

            The only person inside the council hall was Master Vrook.  Ever alert, he gazed at me with his shrewd, dark eyes and walked to the door to greet me.  I don't think that man ever slept.

            "You do not appear to be well rested, young Padawan." he said simply.

            "That is why I have come to speak with you." I admitted.  "I have just had the most unsettling dream."

            "Was it really just a dream that has caused you to rush to me so unkempt?"  Master Vrook's head cocked to one side as he took in my frazzled appearance.  "Or perhaps it was something more."

            I ran a conscious hand through my matted and tangled hair.  "I saw Revan.  And Malak."

            "Tell me of this dream." Master Vrook commanded.

            "I don't even know if it was a dream." I confessed.  "It was too lucid, too real.  They were exploring ruins, maybe it was a temple or a tomb.  They were looking for a Star Forge."

            "Star Forge?"  Master Vrook's eyes narrowed.  "What is this Star Forge?"

            "I don't know."  I wrapped my arms around my ribs.  "Why am I seeing these things anyway?  These visions don't belong to me."

            "You know exactly where they're coming from, child." he snapped.

            "But they can't be coming from Rian!" I protested.  "She doesn't know anything.  Master Zhar promised me that she wouldn't know anything.  She can't!"

            Master Vrook sighed.  Though the man had at least fifty years on me, I had never considered his age prior to the haggard look he gave me.  The skin around his eyes crinkled like parchment paper while his jowls hung loosely.

            "You will wait here while I go fetch the other Masters."  Master Vrook turned from me.  "I fear without their presence my opinions of recent events will cloud any advice I would give you."

            I watched the old man leave.  His lightsaber brushed the side of his waist where it had been clipped to his belt, while his sandaled feet shuffled along the tiled floor.  I found it strange that such an aged man would still have need of a lightsaber; it was probably just for show.  He was still too stubborn to use a cane.

            As he left, I looked around for something to occupy myself with.  The room itself was devoid of any furniture or accessories.  All I had to amuse myself with was the sterile walls.

            I began to finger comb my hair.  My stomach gurgled, but I ignored it.  There would be time to eat later; I had more important things on my mind.

            It must have been a good twenty standard minutes that I stood by myself.  The door finally opened and Master Vrook was followed by the other three.  I bowed deeply in front of the Masters.

            "Master Vrook has informed us that you have had an important vision." Master Vandar said.

            I nodded and with their permission reiterated what I had told Master Vrook.  While Masters Zhar and Vandar kept their faces indecipherable, I was relieved that both Vrook and Dorak wore their expressions plainly.  Master Vrook's agitation, albeit tightly bottled, had begun to mount, while Master Dorak openly displayed his fascination with my tale.

            "Could you describe the glyphs that you saw in the dream?" Master Dorak asked.

            "They were like nothing I've ever seen before." I replied.

            I tried my best to explain the glyphs to Master Dorak.  When words and hand gestures failed Master Zhar gave me a piece of chalk.  I was instructed to sketch the glyph onto the tile floor.

            Master Dorak eyed my handiwork critically before he slowly nodded.  "Interesting." he mused.

            "You said that you received these visions through Rian Vega?" Master Zhar questioned.

            "But that can't be possible." I protested.  "She's not supposed to know anything.  You said she wouldn't."

            "Perhaps the Jedi Masters aren't as infallible as they pretend to be." Master Vrook said darkly.

            "We have discussed your contempt for the issue at hand already, Master Vrook." Master Vandar cut in sharply.  "There is no other way."

            The muscles along Master Vrook's jaw tightened, but he remained silent.  There was a sinking sensation in my entrails that reminded me of how dark and sickly I had felt upon first laying eyes on Rian Vega.  I dreaded what the Masters would tell me.  I hugged myself.  My feet were on the ground.


	46. Tantrums and Training

Rian:

            That morning, the sun decided to rise early.  I had tried to deny it and planted my face into a pillow, but the sun worked doggedly, maybe it was trying to steal attention away from its two moons.  Coruscant's sun never toiled that hard.  So, despite my insistence otherwise, rays of sunlight flitted through the quarter's numerous tiny transparisteel viewports and stabbed me in the eyes.

            I groaned.  In the night I had substituted my left arm for a pillow.  Now, all it was capable of was flopping around uselessly as I tried to sit up in bed.  Needles pricked through the numbness in my arm and I was reassured that I'd be able to reclaim it as my own eventually.

            I didn't even want to think about the dream I had.  It was creepy cloaked man part two.  I don't think I had ever had that particular dream before, so in that sense, I guess I should have felt refreshed.

            I heaved myself from the mattress, my left arm still soundly sleeping, and headed towards the main room.  Mission and Carth were already awake and in a heated battle over the last breakfast pastry.  I think Carth was losing, his roguish charm couldn't affect a fourteen year old the way it could a swooning housewife. 

            I slumped down in a chair next to Carth and joined them.  "Caffa?" I croaked.

            "This morning's getting stranger by the minute." Carth murmured.  "First Bastila comes out looking like she saw a ghost and now you."

            I shot Carth one of my darling morning looks and swiped his caffa mug.  He didn't protest, the smile I had given him probably made him realize that I'd rather gnaw my own leg off than let go of the caffa.  Mission took that as her chance to claim the final pastry.

            "Well," Carth said as he gave a wistful glance to his caffa mug.  "Bastila did mention that you should go to the council chambers before she left.  It's no doubt urgent, so you shouldn't keep them waiting."

            What was I doing sipping caffa?  If Bastila expected me to chat with those crotchety old men, I should have been slugging brandy.  I grimaced at the caffa before I rested my head on the table.

            "I had a rough night." I muttered.

            "Well, I can't say I blame you."  Carth reached over and gave my arm a squeeze.

            I looked at him slack-jawed and miserably exhausted.  I flashed my teeth in a snarl reminiscent of a dying animal.  A rabid, dying animal.  Carth chuckled nervously and removed his hand from my arm.  Mission giggled as she dripped jam over the table.

            "I haven't exactly been sleeping well myself." Carth confessed.  "Here I thought things would get better once we escaped Taris."

            I poked at the glob of jam on the table.  "Did Bastila say anything else?" I asked.

            "No, she didn't."  He plucked his caffa mug from my flimsy grasp.

            I noticed that Carth's impeccably trimmed goatee didn't look quite as impeccable as it normally did.

            "Bastila didn't seem well, as I recall." he noted.  "And for that matter, neither do you.  Are you alright?"

            With a final glance towards the blob of jam, I stood up.  "I had a rough night." I repeated.  "Let's go."

            "Can I come too?" Mission chimed in.

            "I don't even want to go." I grunted.  "Why would you?"

            "I'm sure it's going to be boring, but at least I won't have to worry about the Jedi trying to kill me." the Twi'lek shrugged.

            "I've made it clear to Canderous that he's not to lay a hand on you." I said flatly.

            "It's not his hands I'm worried about." Mission grumbled.  "It's his repeating blaster."

            "I want you here so you can make sure that Zaalbar and Canderous stay separated." I said.

            "Whatever." Mission groaned.  "If you come back and find my flayed body, you know whose fault it is."

            Carth and I stepped out of the Ebon Hawk.  I greeted Dantooine's docking bay with a yawn.

            "Maybe you can meet with them later." Carth suggested.  "You look completely drained.  A nap might do you some good."

            "A nap?"  A laugh rasped in my dry throat.  "I just woke up."

            "Yeah, but on Taris we'd get three extra hours to sleep than we do on Dantooine." Carth replied.

            "You're kidding."  This convoluted hero nonsense was going to give me a nervous twitch.

            "Nope." Carth said.  "Dantooine's only got twenty-five hours in its day.  Taris had twenty-eight."

            Damn planets and their damn orbits.  It was bad enough that I had to feel lagged after leaving hyperdrive, but apparently the forces that be decided that instead of settling on a simple sucker punch to the gut they'd go all out with a sledgehammer to the gonads.  The meeting with those Jedi goons had better be quick or I intended to curl up into a fetal position and start to writhe.

            Fortunately, as I made my way towards the enclave no winged creature felt the need to chirp.  I dragged my lead filled legs forward while Carth trudged beside me.

            Inside, the Jedi enclave was cool, dark and irritatingly tranquil.  I think Carth was right about me needing a nap.  Maybe that lovely Jedi, Belaya, would give me another lecture so that my morning of disaster could be perfect.

            All four of the Masters stood as they waited for my arrival in the council hall.  Bastila told me the night before that I should have been honored that all four took the time to see me.  Somehow, I felt more like I should have been wearing a prison jumpsuit more than anything else.

            Bastila scurried towards the door and slammed it in Carth's face.  I raised an eyebrow and opened the door.  Carth's eyes darted suspiciously at the sliding door.  Bastila glowered at me.

            "This is a matter for you and the Jedi council alone." she hissed.  "This does not involve Carth."

            She hit the button by the door, it shut on Carth again.  I hit the green button and the door slid open.

            "I personally don't like being outnumbered by five Jedi."  I kept my voice low, but I could feel my sleep deprived nose begin to twitch.  "I want someone here that I can trust."

            Bastila looked at me aghast.  Her nose crinkled and her lips puckered like she had been sucking on lemons.  "How dare you hold the Jedi Order in such disrespect."

            "You have to admit," I replied.  "that it would be pretty easy to manipulate your Force 'Voodoo' to get your way."

            "Why you!" Bastila spluttered.

            "Enough." Master Vandar interjected.  "Carth Onasi can join us if Rian Vega wishes it.  We have no desire to appear suspicious."

            The pale-skinned human, Master Vrook, narrowed his dark eyes.  _What's wrong, oh suspicious looking one?_ I thought.  _Are you disappointed that I got my way?_  I shot the old man a grin and his frown deepened.

            Master Vandar beckoned us forward with a long, gnarled green finger.  "Bastila has told us of a most unusual development." the diminutive Jedi announced.  "She claims you and she have shared a dream, a vision of Malak and Revan in the ancient ruins here on Dantooine."

            Master Dorak seemed to glow with excitement as he chimed in, "The ruins have long been known to us, but we believed them to be merely burial mounds.  Perhaps they are something more than we first suspected if Revan and Malak found something there."

            I shot a glance at Carth for support.  He looked completely dazed. 

            "What?" I demanded.  "How would Bastila know if we shared a dream?"

            "She says that she felt your presence within the dream," Master Vandar explained.  "the presence she has felt within you ever since—"

            "Master Vandar!" Master Vrook barked.

            "Ever since Taris." Master Vandar finished.  He shot his fellow Jedi Master a hard look.

            "That's too bad, since I didn't have a dream."  I crossed my arms.  It was fine and dandy if these old guys wanted to teach me how to use the Force, but I was not going to allow them to butt into my life.

            Sweat beaded from Master Zhar's pale red forehead.  He offered a reserved smile before he spoke.  "We understand that you are frightened by these bizarre happenings, it is only natural." he said.  "Please accept that we wish to help you."

            "It is not unknown for this to happen between two people strong in the Force." Master Vandar continued.  "Bastila has described this shared dream to the council in great detail.  We feel it is more than a dream.  It is a vision.  The Force is acting through you as it acts through Bastila."

            I groaned.  "I'm having visions now?"

            Master Zhar swallowed.  His energy seemed to be concentrated elsewhere.  "You and Bastila share a powerful connection to the Force and to each other."  The Twi'lek looked me directly in the eyes, yet he still managed to come off as guarded.  "This is not unheard of.  Connections often form between Master and student, but rarely does a bond develop so quickly."

            A bond?  And with Bastila?  Well, the morning just took a turn for the worse.  I didn't care what they felt they should do, those Masters had better have been working on a way to un-bond Bastila from me.

            "Whatever dangers may lie ahead, we cannot ignore the destiny that has brought you and Bastila here to us." Master Vandar said.  "Together."

            "What are you talking about?"  I glanced from Vrook to Zhar to Dorak and finally back to Vandar.

            "You and she are linked, as is your fate to hers." Master Vandar said it as pleasantly as if he had just stated that the day's weather would be partly sunny.  "Together you two may be able to stop Darth Malak and the Sith."

            Great.  How could the Jedi Masters just accept that bond?  I certainly didn't want it.  By the shade of green that Bastila's cheeks had turned, I was sure that she shared my sentiments.  If that wasn't good enough, they threw in the prospect of tackling a Sith Lord with a little more than a handful of witty remarks at my disposal.

            "Do not let your head be filled with visions of glory and power." Master Vrook warned.  I noticed he had clenched the hems of his sleeves so tightly that his knuckles had drained of color.  "Such thoughts are the path to the Dark Side. The way of the Light is long and difficult as you must learn.  Are you ready for such hardships?"

            Worry creases worked their way into my forehead.  "Something tells me you won't allow me to back out of this gracefully."

            A warm smile briefly touched Master Vandar's lips.  "Understand that there is little choice in this matter, for you or us." he said gently.

            "It seems that there's no way around this one." I sighed.

            "I can only hope that you will prove up to the task."  Master Vrook still eyed me critically.

            So that was it, then.  The Jedi had tightly secured their leash around my neck.  My training had begun.


	47. Meditation

Bastila:

            The wooden practice sword swooped towards my face.  I parried.  The swords cracked together and some stray slivers of wood sprayed out on impact.  Rian's taut muscles were powerful, but she was clumsy.  And predictable.

            Sweat beaded on the other woman's upper lip as she lunged for me again with the sword.  It amazed me that she had the ability to spar and sulk at the same time.  I sidestepped her blow and twirled around.  My hard blade slammed along the back of her knee joints and her legs buckled.  Rian's narrowed eyes became round as she fell onto her back.  She managed to slap me in the hip with her practice sword before the wind was ripped from her lungs.

            I steadied my sword and positioned it before her windpipe.  "Do you yield?"

            Rian raised an eyebrow.  "Are you so arrogant to assume that you've won already?" she asked.

            "Arrogant?" I exclaimed.  "If this were a real sword all I would have to do is lean forward and you'd be a smear on my memory."

            Rian grinned.  "But the sword's not real." she said.

            I felt a twinge of anger at the other woman's comment.  I mentally reiterated the tenets of the Jedi Code, taking care to stress the word 'peace.'  Apparently, my moment of irritation was all she needed.  Rian's ability to pick up on my distraction was uncanny, I was positive it had to do with the bond that the Masters spoke of.  With her left hand, she swiped my wooden blade away from her neck.  I plunged the practice sword forward and it crashed into the hard floor.  In the meanwhile, Rian had thrust her own blade into my sternum with all her might.

            The air was expunged from my chest in one violent blow.  My stomach churned with both painful spikes and the desire to be ill.

            "Does that mean I won?"  Rian grinned.

            I summoned the Force and telekinetically wrenched the practice sword from her hand.  I struck an offensive stance and dared her to attack bare-handed.

            "Wasn't that just cheating?" Rian asked.  She seemed content to stay lying on the floor.

            "What do you think what you just did was called?" I retorted.  "I had you at my advantage fairly."

            "Peace, Bastila." Master Zhar interceded.  "This match is over."

            The Twi'lek Master walked over and collected the practice swords from my hands.  He tucked the swords under his left arm and offered Rian his hand.  She gripped it and hopped to her feet.

            "I feel it would be best if you two retired to your room and recite the Jedi Code while meditating." Master Zhar said.

            "Of course, Master Zhar."  I bowed before my Jedi Master.

            I spun on my heels and stalked from the practice hall.  Rian would be behind me if she knew what was good for her.  I didn't need to listen to the footsteps that followed to know that Rian had chosen the correct path.  The amusement that rolled off of her in waves was nauseating.

            I kept my eyes locked on the red and white tiled floor as I headed towards our bedchamber.  If my gaze avoided all others, then hopefully I wouldn't be harassed by anyone other than my current charge.  Rian bounded along behind me and whistled, apparently pleased with being the outcast of the enclave.

            Safely in the confines of our room, I shut the door.  From under one of the modest twin sized beds, I pulled out two mats.  I placed them across from each other on the floor and sat down on one.  Rian plopped herself onto one of the beds.

            "We are supposed to be meditating."  Frustration pounded at my temples as I stared at Rian.

            She shrugged.  "So I'll meditate from the bed.  What's the big deal?"

            "There is a difference between meditating and snoring." I replied.

            "Was that a joke?"  Rian slid from her spot on the bed and joined me on the floor.

            "It was merely a statement." I insisted.

            Rian looked directly into my eyes and raised an eyebrow.  She didn't believe me.  The glint in her violet eyes also revealed mischievousness.  The woman didn't comprehend what a dangerous game she was playing; she had the capability to harness the Force, yet continued to behave irresponsibly.

            "Now, let us begin." I said as I crossed my legs.  "There is no emotion."

            "There is a large quantity of anti-depressants." Rian finished.

            "That was not amusing."  If Rian was smaller I could have spanked her.  "Please try to concentrate on what we're doing.  There is no ignorance."

            "But there are idiots."  Rian grinned.

            "Do you intend on being childish through this entire exercise?" I demanded.

            She shrugged.  "I don't see what the problem would be if I chose to." she admitted.  "I've got them memorized already.  Why do you insist on being so stodgy about it?"

            How dare she insinuate that I wasn't being anything other than what I was supposed to be.  "Forgive me if I appear 'stodgy' to you, I am merely displaying both the drive and discipline necessary of being a Jedi."

            "Last time I checked, despite being a Jedi you're still human." Rian replied.

            "Of course I'm human!"  I took a moment to count to ten.  "I have no idea what you're implying."

            "Don't play stupid." Rian scoffed.  "I've seen protocol droids that give off more warmth than you."

            "There is no emotion; there is peace!" I argued.  "Why is that so hard to understand?"

            "But if we deny the very things that make us human, shouldn't we rather curl up and die?" Rian asked.

            "The Jedi do not try to deny their base emotions, but we understand and control them." I explained.  "That way, they do not get the better of us."

            "So in order to understand and control our base emotions we have to meditate." Rian said.

            I didn't like the look she gave me.  I nodded.  "It helps."

            "On the floor?"  She raised a dark eyebrow.

            "You are infuriatingly childish." I snapped.  "Why does where we meditate matter so much to you?"

            "It doesn't." Rian replied.  "You're the one who insists that I must meditate on the floor."

            "It's the proper way." I insisted.

            "Do you always to things the proper way?" Rian asked.  "Don't you ever feel the need to bend things to suit yourself better?"

            "You have no idea what you are suggesting."  I nearly gasped.  "You don't realize yet what it feels like to struggle daily against submitting to the Dark Side.  You will learn one day and then you will regret ever behaving this foolishly."

            "Perhaps."  Rian nodded.  "Or maybe one day you'll learn how to lighten up and then thank me."

            I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood.  The woman was beyond repulsive.  Rian smiled, but despite the relaxed face, through the bond we shared I could sense that something was gnawing at her.  I'd rather let Rian keep her thoughts to herself, but Master Vandar had been very insistent that I should do my best to befriend the other woman.

            "You seem troubled."  I gripped one of my braids out of habit.  "Perhaps if you talk about it you'll feel better."

            Rian sighed deeply.  She appeared to be considering her words carefully.  "I want to talk about that dream." she said finally.

            I was hoping that would never come up.  "It was less of a dream and more of a vision.  A vision the two of us shared."  I instinctively reached out with the Force to test the barrier that I had put in place between Rian and myself.  "I am certainly willing to answer any questions the Jedi council did not."

            Rian looked at me warily.  The woman was extremely powerful in the Force and if she so wished it, could have easily plowed through the defenses that I had erected.  Thankfully, she wasn't trained well enough to realize it as of yet.  This gave me the opportunity to choose my words carefully.  I would not lie to her, but anything I could keep from her, I would.

            "I'm not sure I like the idea of you being in my dreams." Rian admitted.  She looked as though she had swallowed something particularly wretched.

            She was worried about me being in _her_ dreams?  "And are you so certain that it is not you in my dreams?" I retorted.  I would remain calm.

            The wretched taste in Rian's mouth must have curdled.  She forced a smile to her lips.  "I suppose that's possible."

            I sighed.  "Regardless of which it is, our fates are linked.  The vision was doubtless meant for us both."

            "But why would we dream of Revan and Malak?"  Rian pulled one knee up against her chest.

            "Perhaps because we desired to." I suggested.  "Perhaps because they came to this planet and were strong enough in the Force to leave a trace."

            "Well I certainly didn't want to dream about them."  Rian grimaced.

            "That would not be my first choice either, but choice appears to be irrelevant in this matter."  I rubbed my temples.  Ever since I met Rian Vega I've become accustomed to headaches.  "We dreamed about Revan and Malak either because we were meant to or because we needed to.  There is no other way to look at it."

            "I still don't get why we shared it." Rian said.

            I couldn't believe how she could behave so petulantly about it.  My presence in her head must have been a stroll in the park compared to the other way around and I wasn't openly complaining.  I needed to distract her from her original question if I was to ever get any peace.

            "Are you wondering why we shared the vision?  Or why we even received it in the first place?"  I gave a triumphant smile.  "To the first I can only repeat what the answer that the council gave us.  Our fates are linked and for two as strong as we are in the Force that amounts to a near physical bond.  As to the second, I don't truly have an answer for you.  The Force works as it will and perhaps we should be grateful for what we have been given."

            "But how did we become linked?" Rian pressed.  "I highly doubt you become bonded to every Force-sensitive person you come across at a swoop race."

            My stomach churned.  I wished I could just tell her everything and get it out of the way.  "I don't know." I murmured.  "Believe me, I certainly don't find the prospect of being joined to you enjoyable in any fashion."

            Rian's face soured.  "Believe me, the feeling is mutual." she replied dryly.

            "Then perhaps the sooner we see to our destiny the sooner we can proceed on our separate paths, yes?" I said crisply.

            "If you say so." Rian grumbled.  "But this whole thing just doesn't make sense to me."

            "Well, I explained it to you to the best of my ability." I replied.

            "No, not that."  Rian sighed.  "You Jedi accept me with open arms and start training me when there are Jedi Knights younger than me.  That's weird by itself, but the fact that I can't be in a room with you or your Masters without someone developing an ulcer makes it doubly weird."

            "You are extremely gifted." I offered.  "It would be foolish to deny you training simply because your demeanor does not agree with ours."

            "And Master Vrook hates me." she muttered.

            "Master Vrook may seem harsh and critical, but he understands the dangers that lie in your path."  The soothing voice seemed to drift into our room.

            "Master Vandar!" I exclaimed.

            It did little for Rian's irritation; she probably suspected that Master Vandar had been eavesdropping.  I was relieved that I wouldn't be the one answering the questions now.

            "Master Vrook wants you and Bastila to be fully prepared for the challenges that you will face."  Master Vandar hobbled into the room, a pleasantly lukewarm expression on his face.

            "We were just practicing our meditation and recitation of the Jedi Code, Master Vandar." I said humbly.

            The old master nodded simply.  His heavy-lidded eyes made him appear relaxed, but I knew from past experience that nothing slipped past Master Vandar.

            "The council has decided that it is time for Rian Vega's tests to begin." he said.  "Are you ready?"


	48. Cabin Fever

Zaalbar:

"Listen fur ball, just because you're strong enough to rip my arms off and shove them up my butt doesn't mean you're allowed to cheat." Mission said firmly. "I won this hand."

I groaned and threw the cards. I had no patience for children's games. We had been stuck on the Ebon Hawk while Rian Vega had been training for about a standard week. So far, Carth Onasi had kept a vigilant eye on everything. He was careful to allow my rambunctious cub no more time on the soil of Dantooine than was needed for a breath of fresh air.

Mission had at first balked at the idea of being held prisoner on the ship, but finally realized that the easiest route to victory would be one of stealth and not whining. She had finally transformed her snide remarks to honey-lipped charm.

"What're you gearing up for?" The iciness in Mission's voice could only mean one thing.

The Mandalorian's foul scent wafted into my nostrils and I grimaced. I refused to sully my tongue with his name. Smoke billowed from his cigarra as he walked towards the workbench.

"I've got some personal things to take care of." he said simply. He roughly disassembled his repeating blaster with his bare hands.

"What does that mean? Did you pick up a rash or something?" she taunted.

I put my hand on Mission's arm to calm her. I didn't want her to start another fight with the Mandalorian; he had already proved that he lacked honor by pointing his blaster at the Twi'lek child.

"I've got some personal things to take care of." the Mandalorian repeated. "If you can handle a blaster rifle, I'll let you tag along."

Mission's lekku rattled dangerously. "Did you find some helpless settlement that you're going to torch?"

"You don't have to come." the Mandalorian said blandly. "The droid's enough."

"Teethree is not going with you!" Mission exclaimed.

The Mandalorian gave a gruff laugh. "Try telling that to the droid." he replied. "I upgraded its flamethrower and the rust-bucket is desperate to test it out."

"Whatever." Mission rolled her eyes.

The Mandalorian seemed pleased that Mission had stopped talking and went about his work in silence. Once he finished upgrading his blaster, he stubbed the butt of his cigarra out on the side of the workbench. He paused for a moment to consider Mission and myself. I bared my teeth to keep him from coming too close. The Mandalorian snorted and left the room.

"What a sleaze." Mission muttered under her breath. "Do you want to play another game of pazaak?"

"No." I said.

"Maybe Carth will play with me." Mission pulled out her deck of cards and began to shuffle through them.

"Only if he is a fool" I replied.

"Let's go find him and see, then." Mission suggested.

I shrugged and plodded after her nimble form. Mission scampered down the corridors of the Ebon Hawk until she found Carth in the main room. His scowl turned into a gap-jawed look of surprise as she flung her arms around his neck.

"Carth!" Mission squealed.

"Hello to you, too." Carth cleared his throat.

"What're you up to?" she asked.

I edged myself over to a seat quietly. Just what did that child have planned?

"Nothing much." Carth replied. "I was just thinking about things."

"Oh?" Mission said casually. "About what?"

"Nothing really." Carth said. He reached over the table and picked up an empty caffa mug and examined it before he set it down with a clunk.

"You're thinking about Rian, aren't you?" Mission grinned impishly.

Carth raised his eyebrow. "I'm thinking about a lot of things." he retorted.

Mission slid her arms off of Carth and plopped down in a seat next to him. "But Rian is one of those things." Her voice had a sing-song quality to it.

"Yes and so is Bastila." Carth said firmly. "I think the Jedi council is insane for pairing those two up together. They're going to kill each another."

"Do you really think so?" Mission's legs swung madly from the seat.

"Yes." Carth affirmed. "I mean, it's easy to see that Bastila can't stand Rian. What does Rian think about Bastila?"

Mission shrugged. "I don't know. Whenever Rian talks about her to me, it's only about how big Bastila's boobs are."

"That's all she talks about?" I don't think that the color in Carth Onasi's face was normal for a human.

"I don't see what the big deal is, though." Mission's eyes were opened far too wide to be considered innocent. "Rian and Bastila are stuck training together and there's nothing we can do about it."

"I can still worry about it." Carth muttered.

"Or you can come with me and Big Z and see what Dantooine's all about." Mission suggested.

"Dantooine's a pretty boring place." Carth replied. "That's what Dantooine's all about. Of course, I'm sure if there's any trouble at all on this planet, you'd be able to find it."

I chuckled at his last comment. One didn't have to be astute to realize that the name "Mission Vao" was synonymous with "trouble."

"If Dantooine's so boring, then it won't be a big deal if Big Z and me go out and rile up the locals." Mission rationalized.

"You don't need to go out and start problems for the settlers." Carth said firmly.

"Carth Onasi has a point, Mission." I pointed out.

"Can it, fuzzy." Mission snapped.

When she turned back to Carth, Mission's face had resumed being saccharin sweet. "We're just dying of boredom in here, Carth." she said. "I'm sure you find it stuffy in here too, especially since the best conversation you can get is from a bleeping astromech droid."

"If I let you out of the Ebon Hawk, will you stop smiling at me like that?" Carth asked her.

"So you'll let me go?" Mission's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Yeah, but I'm coming too." Carth said. "If you get strung up on a tree by your lekku, I don't want to have on my conscience that I just sat here and did nothing while it happened."

"Fine, geezer." Mission sighed. "But you better not slow me down."

I think that Carth Onasi was right about Dantooine being boring. My sprightly cub seemed nearly nauseous by the dull landscape that greeted her. She tried her damnedest to find a shady cantina and a shells game, but luck evaded her. Every dark corner seemed to have been destroyed with cheery lanterns.

As the sun kissed the horizon, the three of us trudged back towards the Ebon Hawk. Mission's face was twisted and disgruntled. Whatever glorious plans she had had were smothered by reality.

As the daylight dimmed, all of the settlers retired for the evening. In that manner, they were unlike the Tarisians and more like my people. So, it was strange when a single woman remained outdoors while all others were safely in their homes.

Mission's impishness was rejuvenated in an instant. "Let's go see what she's doing." she urged.

"I'm hungry." I moaned softly.

"Hey, lady!" Mission called out.

The woman was startled by Mission's outcry but she was quite obviously both frantic and desperate. Her clothes were soiled and her hands were filthy from a day's work. The woman instantly launched into a plea regarding a missing person. The missing person upon questioning quickly turned into a missing droid. I will never be able to understand the fascination humans have with their belongings. If it were up to me, we would have turned around and headed back to the Ebon Hawk, but Mission was set on having an adventure.

"Wow. She really misses her droid, doesn't she?" Mission giggled.

"There's no need for you to make fun of her." Carth tried to sound fatherly, but I could see that he fought back his own laughter. "She's obviously desperate."

Mission's eyes brimmed with tears. "I'll say."

Carth and Mission fell into a fit of sniggers. When they had finished with their hysterics, they joined me. Amid the random chuckles that erupted from Carth and Mission, we headed back towards the Ebon Hawk.


	49. Bedpan Ashtrays

Rian:

            "There is a locked door and your goal lies on the other side."  Master Dorak eyed me critically.  "What do you do?"

            I spent every ounce of willpower I had to not laugh.  _What the hell_, I thought.  I couldn't resist.  "Knock?"

            Master Dorak nodded as a pleased smile crossed his lips.  "Yes, I thought as much.  As I suspected you would be most suitable as a Jedi Consular."  He produced the glittering gem from his worn, dun robes.  "Here is a green crystal for your lightsaber.  Go speak to Master Zhar and he will instruct you in how to construct it."

            I accepted the crystal with a bow.  Hopefully, I was able to conceal any child-like giddiness that I might have had on receiving it.  Rian Vega, smuggler Jedi.  The galaxy had no idea what kind of havoc I was capable of now.

            The second test was almost done.  The first, a recitation of the Jedi Code, was easy.  For once my memory didn't decide to run around in a circle and then implode.  After that, Master Dorak questioned me in a way that was reminiscent of a Czerka Corporation service questionnaire.

            Crystal in hand, I walked towards the Twi'lek Master.  I suffered a bow to him and Master Zhar smiled.

            "Ah good." he murmured.

            Master Zhar proceeded to guide me in the construction of my lightsaber.  I tried to listen at first, but his voice began to drone on.  I found that it was better to just trust my instinct.

            _"Grandad!__  Look at the tentacle-head!"_

_            "It's a Twi'lek, child.  Soon you will learn in a galaxy as vast as ours that more species exist than humans."_

            Open up the hilt.  Click.

            _"What's a Twi'lek, Mama?"_

_            "Twi'leks are just like us, except they have lekku.  But I expect you to treat them just like us."_

_            "Lekku?.."_

            Put the crystal in its place.  Click.

            _"What's a Twi'lek, Mama?"_

_            "Just a vile alien."_

            Close the hilt.  I was done.  The lightsaber hissed to life beneath a firm thumb.

            "You have done extremely well in constructing your lightsaber, apprentice." Master Zhar mused.  "Your crystal seems to have been set perfectly.  It is rare indeed for that to happen the first time one constructs their lightsaber."

            I think my eyes glazed over.  The Jedi Masters loved to talk.  Lightsaber.  Honor.  Butt-kicking enemies who wanted me dead.  I think I caught all the important parts.

            "Are you ready to face the final challenge, apprentice?" Master Zhar asked.

            "Absolutely."

            I think Master Zhar was a little taken aback from the thumbs up I gave him.  He nodded slowly.

            "For every Jedi the threat of the Dark Side is always present.  You must truly understand this before you are accepted into the Order." Master Zhar said.  At least he was more sedated than Bastila.  "You must see the corruption of the Dark Side for yourself.  Even here on Dantooine there are places where the Dark Side holds sway, twisting and tainting nature itself.

            "The ancient grove once used for deep meditation by the Jedi is now tainted; a wave of darkness perverts the region around it.  The kath hounds in the area have become savage and ruthless.  They have become a threat to the settlers, a threat the Jedi have promised to stop."

            "What would you have me do, Master Zhar?"  I'm sure I sounded hesitant.  I did not like the sound of whatever idea he had jelling in his head.

            "The kath hounds are but a symptom of the problem." Master Zhar explained.  "You must journey into the grove and confront the true source of the darkness.  That is your task."

            The Twi'lek spoke too simply of the "darkness in the grove."  That sent danger signs off instantly in the back of my head.  I had no intention of becoming a kath hound chew toy, much less the plaything of whatever was in that grove.

            "There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?" I spoke evenly.

            Master Zhar looked slightly amused as he shook his head.  "I can say no more; some things you must learn for yourself."

            The man must have read my mind.  As I turned to leave he spoke again and the brevity in his voice robbed me of my gusto.

            "None of the other Jedi are permitted to help you in this task."

            Damn.  Maybe becoming a Jedi wasn't all that important.  Why did a smuggler need to be a Jedi anyway?  Sure, I bet those Jedi mind tricks would have come in handy when negotiating prices, but I was pretty talented without them.

            I headed out of the Jedi enclave; my head hung low on my shoulders.  I'd find a nice seat on the Ebon Hawk, have a drink and discuss things away from Bastila's earshot.

            Bastila.  The realization almost made me giggle as I walked from the enclave.  Bastila was the only Jedi that I might have swayed into helping me with this final test.  No one else in my crew aboard the Ebon Hawk was a Jedi.  There'd be no reason for them not to help me.

            That damned droid was waiting for me on the Ebon Hawk's loading ramp.  It wheeled itself up to me and began to spout gibberish.

            "You don't say?" I muttered.  One of these days I'd figure out what he was saying.

            T3-M4 flickered some lights at me.  I noticed that his main light was busted.

            "What the hell happened to you?" I wondered.

            In answer, the droid flipped open a side panel.  A flame thrower popped out.  The intense heat caressed my skin as the droid displayed its battle prowess.  The spurt of flame was large and menacing, but it quickly spluttered out.

            "I don't understand what you're trying to tell me." I told it.  "But I can't sell your parts if they're all broken."

            The astromech droid burbled rudely.  I moved to kick it.  A raspy sound that emitted from the innards of the Ebon Hawk startled me.  When I turned back to the droid, it had already made its escape.

            The rasping sound echoed through the ships corridors again.  A cough.  It sounded painful. 

            It was pretty easy to track him, all I had to do was follow the trail of blood.  The vibrant dark red drops seemed to have been sprinkled all over the metal floor.  If I took the time to sit back and think, I would have known to just head directly to the medical bay, but as it was, I curiously tracked the scatters of blood.

            In the medical bay, Canderous had left bloody handprints all over the cabinets as he searched for bandages.

            "I see you've been busy while I was gone." I said dryly.

            Beneath all the blackened dried blood splatters on his face, I think Canderous smiled grimly.  "Is the droid still working?" he asked.

            "Yeah." I replied.  "But I think its market value has dropped severely."

            Canderous nodded and settled on the medical bay's cot.  As he leaned back into the formerly sterile, white pillow, he propped a bent cigarra into his thin lips.

            "Where's Carth and the others?" I asked.

            "I saw them out in the plains treasure hunting." he answered.

            I opened a cabinet and pulled out bandages and some kolto.  "You don't have any blood borne pathogens that I should know about, do you?" I asked.

            The Mandalorian barked out a gruff laugh.  "You've been hanging out with that Twi'lek too much." he said.

            I brought the kolto over to him, but he brushed me away.  He lit his cigarra.

            "Don't bother." Canderous grunted.  "All the internal bleeding has already stopped."

            "I don't understand." I said.

            "I have a healing implant." Canderous replied.  "I took a shot of kolto for the internal bleeding, but the implant should take care of all the other minor injuries.  I just need some time.  Is there an ashtray anywhere?"

            I offered him a bedpan and he flicked his ash into it.  "What happened anyway?" I asked.

            "The droid and I were taking care of some personal business." he said simply.

            "Oh." I said.  "Did you finish your personal business?"

            "No."  Smoke billowed from Canderous' nostrils.  "I was hunting down those Mandalorian raiding parties.  I killed most of them, but their lead party is still out there."

            "Why are you killing other Mandalorians?" I wondered aloud.

            "That's a stupid question if I've ever heard one." Canderous barked.

            I ground my teeth and pulled the bedpan away from him.  Canderous snorted and ashed on the floor.

            "It was a legitimate question." I said.

            "Why?" Canderous retorted.  "I don't ask questions every time you kill another human."

            "I take it that it's personal." I said softly.

            There was a small fridge in the corner.  It had cold packs for minor injuries and blue ale for more serious ones.  I pulled two bottles of ale out and handed Canderous one.

            "Pretty astute." Canderous said dryly.  "Where did you learn that kind of deductive thinking from?"

            "The same place where I learned how to beat the shit out of wounded Mandalorians." I warned.  "I'm not above it.  Are you going to answer my question or not?"

            Canderous chuckled as he popped the cap off of his ale bottle with a thumb.  "Honor means everything to we Mandalorians." he said.  "Those worthless animals out there have lost their honor.  It's my duty to remove them from this existence."

            "And how does your honor hold up?" I asked.  The blue ale was too mild for my tastes, but it was free so I drank it regardless.

            "Custom dictates that if you question it once more in my presence, I'll have to fight you to the death." Canderous said simply.

            "Well, we don't want that." I replied.  "Especially since I'm supposed to clean out the grove here on Dantooine.  Would you want to help me with that?"

            "What's involved in it?" he asked.

            "I don't know." I admitted.  "The only information the Jedi gave me was that the kath hounds are going crazy around the grove.  There's probably something crazier inside the grove."

            "Sounds like fun." Canderous agreed.  "But I've got to take care of the remaining Mandalorian raiding party first."

            "How long will that take?" I asked.

            "I'll be out of commission for a few more hours while I heal." Canderous said.  "After that we take on the final group of those disgraceful bastards.  Depending on how damaged we are after that, we can head to the grove afterwards."

            "If I give you another kolto injection, would you be able to heal faster."  I rummaged through the cabinet searching for the kolto.

            "No." Canderous' voice was stern.  "If I take any more kolto it will lower my defenses and my body will probably shut down until it heals completely.  Then it will be more than a few hours wait."

            "I guess I should see if I can fix that droid while we're stuck waiting, then." I suggested.

            "Good thinking."  Canderous tossed his cigarra butt on the floor.

            With a final wistful glance to my ale bottle, I set out to lure T3-M4 from his hiding place.


	50. To the Grove

Canderous:

            "Well, don't you look pleasant?"  The dry tone of Rian Vega's voice chafed my ears.

            I didn't bother with a reply; I just finished up my work.  I sank the vibroblade into the corpse's still cooling flesh.  When I was finished with Sherruk he wouldn't be fit for carrion.  Cowards!  And they dared call themselves Mandalorians?

            It didn't matter anymore; they were done, I was done.  Sherruk no longer belonged to a clan and his head, along with the others, was left as a grisly reminder on the plains.  I wiped the blood from my hands and glanced up at Rian.

            Somehow, the dried blood splattered along her cheekbone seemed to suit her.  I would keep my suspicions to myself for the moment, but something was odd.  While I tracked the remaining raiders, she had seemed hesitant, uncertain, soft.  On first glance I would have expected her to be nothing more than a burden, yet when the scent of battle wafted beneath her nose she transformed into a fierce warrior, a deftly executed blade in each hand.  It would be an interesting thing to watch develop, to say the least.

            The fear of death had been purged from her system and as the adrenaline left her body, Rian had reclaimed her helpless demeanor.  She watched me impatiently as I sheathed my vibroblade and picked my repeating blaster up off the ground.

            "Are you hurt?" I asked.

            Rian shook her head.  She seemed honest enough.  That was good.  It was bad enough that I had had a hole the size of a melon in my abdomen hidden by my armor.

            Speaking of which, that wound hurt like hell.  I should have given myself an extra half hour to heal up better, but some things are more painful than permacrete blasts.

            Rian had occupied herself with trying to repair the T3-M4 unit while I healed.  The girl obviously had little idea what she was doing, so when I saw that she was about to shove a stripped wire into the droid's power source, I knew that I needed to get her away from that thing before she electrocuted herself.

            Granted, it might have been pretty damn amusing to watch her quake and tremble while all those volts of electricity pounded through her tiny frame, but the smell would have been horrendous.  Besides, Rian seemed like the only one in our little group aboard the Ebon Hawk that didn't mind that I had stuck around after Taris.  If I really wanted to, I would have had no trouble disposing of her crew and getting the hell off of Dantooine, but then where would I go?  What would I do?  Perhaps I had become a little too accustomed to a soft lifestyle while working for Davik, but I wasn't ready to let Rian kill herself.  Not yet.

            I was beginning to regret my earlier decision, however.  My muscles ached and the numerous wounds I had collected burned livid.  It wouldn't have been a problem if I could have just rested, but I could see a glint of anxiety in Rian's eyes.  She wanted to charge into Dantooine's ancient grove and destroy whatever it was that was in there.  Admirable, if a bit headstrong.

            I bloodied a cigarra as I put it in my mouth.  It was Rian's little quest that I was on now, I was only there in case she needed backup.  I'd whip out my repeating blaster and give the girl a hand if she was in trouble, but something told me that it wouldn't be necessary.  She was on her final test for the Jedi and from what I had previously observed of the Jedi I had already concluded that they were much softer than they pretended to be.

            I was reminded of the freshly broken bones in my right foot with every step, but I marched after Rian.  The cigarra smoke on my lips tasted sweet and I inhaled deeply as I pressed forward to catch up to the woman.

            I think I unnerved her.  She kept darting glances at me while we walked.  I kept a hard gaze on her until she cleared her throat.

            "Well, this afternoon is awfully chipper, wouldn't you say?" Rian said in an overly conversational tone.

            "No." I replied.  "I wouldn't."

            "Oh."  She plodded along silently for a brief moment.  "Do you have any interesting stories?"

            "You want to hear tales of my exploits?  Of the wars I've seen and fought, the enemies I've seen die by my hand?"  I chuckled.  "Or are you just stalling our little trip to the grove?"

            "No."  Rian swallowed hard.  "Never mind, I don't need to hear your stories."

            "I enjoy telling them." I said.  "But only to those who are interested."

            "Let's just get this damn thing over with." she muttered.

            "Fair enough."

            We continued to walk towards the grove.  I would have to get off my foot soon or it would probably balloon to about twice its normal size, but I held my tongue. 

            As we neared the grove, the entire atmosphere of Dantooine seemed to change.  The most noticeable difference was that the kath hound attacks became more frequent.  The animals' yips were high-pitched and maddened as they charged; the scent of our blood sent them into a ravenous frenzy.

            The grass became brittle and withered.  Rich greens were reduced to yellowed browns.  It looked as though the very earth was trying to escape the ruined grove.

            The grove itself was really something.  Enormous white pillars that surrounded the entrance had the appearance of stone, but had a patina as if they were metal.  The trees inside were knotted and perverse, their braches jutted through the pillars like claws.

            I had to stand back a moment and shake my head.  I finished my first cigarra and placed a second in my mouth.  Rian seemed to share my sentiments, as she pulled a canteen from her new Jedi robe.  She took a deep swig before she tucked it back into the folds of her robe.

            "You ready?" I asked.

            Rian nodded.

            Seated in full lotus position at the entrance way of the grove was a Cathar female.  Fierce warriors, my people had seen to the destruction of the Cathar homeworld because they were worthy of battle.  I couldn't wait to see the outcome of this encounter.

            The pale gold fur on her face was covered with streaks of ocher and her topknot was decorated with ornate beads.  But what really caught my attention was the traditional Jedi robe that she wore.  This was just getting more and more interesting.

            The Cathar's yellow cat eyes opened and she sprang to her feet.  Rian fumbled for her weapons while I waited calmly.  The Cathar flashed her fangs at us and I was hit with a sickening sensation as she flung out the palm of her hand.  It was like I was thrashing my limbs through cold water before my muscles finally constricted, encased in the Force.  I was frozen.

            "I will be your doom!" the Cathar declared as she raised her lightsaber.

            My cigarra had slipped from my lips in the meanwhile.  My eyes on the Cathar, I wouldn't have noticed except that flames ignited from the cigarra's cherry greedily devoured the dry grass around my anchored feet.

            It would be an honor to die at the Cathar warrior's hands.  Rian certainly didn't stand a chance.


	51. Disturbed Droids

Carth:

"Jeepers, who'd have thought there'd be such a thing as a suicidal droid?" Mission's laughter pealed through the Ebon Hawk. "That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard!"

Zaalbar moaned a reply and Mission burst into another fit of giggles. I slumped down into a seat in the main room and sighed. I was just glad that the day was coming to a close.

That woman had really been something else. She had raved frantically about a missing person that quickly turned into missing droid. I had been ready then and there to call it a day, but Mission was determined to find adventure out of the nonsense. So we searched the plains of Dantooine until we found the protocol droid being attacked by kath hounds.

If that wasn't enough, after Zaalbar had wrestled all the kath hounds to the ground, the droid explained that it had been trying to get itself destroyed. I had a handful of some choice ill thoughts that circled inside my head when the droid said, "She tried to treat me as her dead husband."

I think that Mission might have been somewhat touched by all of it, after she had stopped laughing. She tried to convince the droid to return to its master and nearly succeeded. Zaalbar grew impatient and reduced it to a heap of smoking scrap metal with his bowcaster. I think I was beginning to like that Wookiee.

The woman, of course, was devastated. She ran off and found the arms, thankfully, of a human companion to console her. Our job was done.

So I was ready to relax. I just wanted to kick my boots off and let my sweaty feet air out while someone else made a pot of caffa.

A loud crash exploded from the crew's quarters, I should have known by now that peace didn't exist in a world that had pubescent Twi'lek girls. One scream from Zaalbar later and the Wookiee stumbled into the main room with Mission dangling from his shoulders.

"Do I even want to know?" I asked.

"Don't you think Big Z would look darling with pink ribbons in his hair?" Mission flashed me her winning smile.

"I'd like to see you try getting pink ribbons anywhere near him." I began to loosen the laces on my boots.

"But Carth!" Mission protested. "I thought you were going to help me."

Zaalbar bellowed in what sounded like indignation.

"Not going to happen." I replied.

Mission pouted, while Zaalbar heaved a sigh of relief. The Wookiee plucked the girl from his shoulders and set her on the ground.

Mission plopped down next to me and began to fiddle with the holo-vid projector.

"So, how long do you think you'll stay on Dantooine?" I asked.

"'Til whenever, I guess." Mission shrugged.

"Well, that's not really a good answer, is it?" I retorted.

"Why not?" Mission shot back. "Should I have my entire life for the next twenty-six years mapped out?"

"I didn't mean that." I held my hands up defensively. "But if you don't have a plan, Rian's bound to mix you up in some shady business."

"Really?" Mission's dark blue eyes lit up.

I groaned. That was not the kind of reaction I had been hoping for.

"What?" She frowned.

Mission jabbed a button on the holo-vid projector. When it lit up, she stabbed her finger into it again. Zaalbar walked towards her and slapped her hand. Mission scowled.

I tried again. "What I mean, is do you have any plans for yourself?"

"What kind of plans?" Mission asked.

"Well…" I thought as I tore the first boot from my foot. "Like joining the military and studying at an academy."

Mission grimaced.

"It was just an example." I exclaimed.

"Your feet stink." she grumbled.

"I'm just concerned that if you don't have some sort of plan or goal to aim for, you'll just get dragged around wherever Rian feels like." I confessed.

"You're really worried about me?" The girl looked genuinely shocked.

I concentrated on pulling the other boot off. "Yeah. You're by no means incapable of taking care of yourself, but because of your age and size there are a countless number of people that would love to take advantage of you. I don't want that to happen."

Zaalbar growled and Mission patted him on the arm.

"It's okay, Big Z." she assured. "I know you'll always be there for me."

The Wookiee seemed satisfied. Mission giggled as she turned her attention back to me.

"What's with all this fatherly advice, Carth?" she teased. "Does that say something about your own plans? That you've hit some crazy midlife crisis and want to have babies?"

I froze. Mission sniggered, but I think Zaalbar caught on. He put a hand on the Twi'lek girl's shoulder. She looked back at me and her laughter died.

"You are a father, aren't you?" she said quietly.

"I was." I answered.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mission asked.

"Do you want to talk about your brother?" I replied.

Mission nodded and smiled. "I understand." she said.

Zaalbar looked around the main room and sniffed. The Wookiee moaned softly.

"You're right, Big Z." Mission said. "It is awfully quiet in here."

Glad that the subject changed, I took a moment to listen myself. No sound of boots walking along to metal floor, no muffled voices, no noise generated from the caffa pot or food synthesizer. Nothing but silence.

"Where is everybody else?" I asked.

Mission shrugged, but her face lit up. A new adventure had begun.

"Rian?" Mission called out as she stood. Her lekku twitched as she scampered down a corridor. "Teethree?"

Zaalbar headed down the opposite hallway. His barks were loud enough to rattle my teeth. I sighed and stood up. I guess no one else would look for Canderous besides me.

To be honest, I secretly hoped that the Mandalorian would just vanish. I could tell that he didn't enjoy the company to be had in the Ebon Hawk, so I didn't understand why he chose to stick around. What happened between Mission and Canderous only solidified my ideas about the mercenary. If I had been there, I would have killed him.

But I liked the idea of Canderous Ordo sneaking around the Ebon Hawk even less than him simply being there. So I found myself calling the Mandalorian's name out as I tiptoed down the hall.

I didn't get an answer. I couldn't decide whether I should have been relieved, worried or suspicious. Suspicion won out. The high pitched shriek that Mission let out moments later didn't help, either.

I tried to bolt down the corridor, but in socked feet, I only managed to slip and stub my toe. That girl was taking years off of my life.

When I finally tracked Mission down, I saw that Zaalbar was already at her side. In her arms she held the T3-M4 unit. The droid burbled, agitated, as it struggled against Mission's grip.

"What's going on here?" I demanded.

"Look at him."

Mission held T3-M4 up so I could see it. Filthy, The droid's main light was smashed among other things. It let loose a low, frazzled whistle.

"Poor Teethree!" Mission exclaimed.

"What happened to it?" I asked.

"That stupid nerf-herder, Canderous, took Teethree out with him to finish off those Mandalorian raiders." Mission snorted.

Canderous went out on the plains of Dantooine looking for other Mandalorians to kill? I couldn't have been the only one who couldn't find the logic in that.

"Where's Canderous now?" I wondered.

"Off with Rian." Mission answered simply.

"Oh?" I said. "And where's that?"

"Out on the plains." Mission replied. "They were going to finish killing the last group of raiders, then cleanse an ancient grove."

I felt like I had just swallowed a blaster carbine. My stomach churned. Something was desperately wrong, I knew it.

"Do you know what they're cleansing in that grove?" I asked hoarsely.

Mission shook her head. "Uh uh. Teethree says that even Rian didn't know what the Jedi council was putting her up against."

Of all the senseless things I have ever heard! Did Rian think that just because that damned council gave her a lightsaber she knew how to wield one? I gripped the blasters in my holsters and checked their charge. I felt the odd sensation of relief in knowing that Canderous had accompanied her. I might not have agreed with him or his people, but he was a capable soldier at any rate.

I thumbed my blasters to the appropriate setting. I only wished that we would be able to get to the grove in time before Rian got herself killed.


	52. Juhani

Rian:

"I will be your doom!"

I never knew that doom was a yellow eyed, pointy eared maniacal cat lady with a lightsaber. Hell, I hadn't even known that doom had a face.

Well, doom had just swung her lightsaber at me, so with a squeak, I threw my face into the dirt to avoid it. As delicious as the soil was, I quickly rolled over to the left to avoid the lightsaber as it came stabbing down to where my neck had previously been.

All my limbs? Still accounted for. Not dead yet.

I sprang from my back and hopped away from her. Why did it always seem like everybody wanted to kill me? Those damn Jedi Masters were probably having a good laugh at my expense.

The smell of something burning did nothing to lighten my mood. Luckily, it wasn't me; Canderous had just set h is pant leg on fire. A good lot of help he was proving to be.

Damn it, I was used to fighting two handed, but I was only given one lightsaber. I could still use a vibroblade in my off hand, true, but a vibroblade was no match for a golden furred psycho's lightsaber. I decided that I needed to have a chat with the Jedi Masters for not better equipping me.

The cat lady struck out with her lightsaber again. I parried, but just barely. She was burley; I was surprised that my arms didn't snap off just from the force of her blow. If I was going to beat her, it wasn't going to be through a battle of strength.

"Who are you?" I demanded. If I could just distract her long enough, I could run her through.

She licked her lips and grinned in a manner that made me want to wet myself.

"I am Juhani and this is my grove." she said in a husky deeply accented voice. "This is the place of my dark power. This is the place you have invaded."

Juhani lashed out again. I dove to the right to avoid her lightsaber as she swiped it at my knees. Juhani gave a throaty chuckle, it almost sounded like a purr. She was playing with me.

"Last time I checked, this grove belonged to the Jedi." I shot back. Maybe that would piss her off enough to break her concentration. "They sent me to clean up."

Juhani snarled as her ears flattened against her skull. She lunged at me with fatal precision. It took every ounce of energy to avoid her that time. Great, I thought, I managed to piss her off alright, but instead of it breaking her concentration, she stopped playing and became deadly serious.

"It is mine!" Juhani declared.

Okay, Plan A was in complete and total ruin, time for Plan B. Maybe some of that Force voodoo? I was a big bad Jedi; maybe that's what the Masters wanted me to do here. Use the Force.

But how? I had telekinetically lifted datapads and other small things in training, but that was about it. It was another thing entirely to wrap a Force sensitive wacko in a telekinetic grip while she struggled against my hold.

I gave it a shot. The telekinetic shove I gave Juhani caught her off guard and she stumbled back, but she didn't fall. Dirt had been kicked up into her eyes in the process and she clenched her eyes shut until they could tear the dust out. A week ago, I would have tried to impale the other woman with my lightsaber, but I had learned better. Juhani was a Force user and even though her vision had been temporarily robbed she could easily sense my presence.

I stood back warily, the crackle hiss that my lightsaber gave off soothed me. Juhani composed herself, her rage replaced with her original confidence. The game had begun again.

"You're dressed like a Jedi, but you embraced the Dark Side." I said. "Why?"

Juhani began to circle me slowly. "When I slew my Master, Quatra, I knew I could never go back."

An ex-Jedi. A Sith. This wasn't the best situation to tromp into willingly.

_Her form with the lightsaber is excellent, but she is a mere fledgling with the Force. A firm telekinetic grip around a vital organ would be all that it would take._

I shivered at the fleeting thought. Bastila? The Masters did say we were bonded so maybe it was her thought, but I doubted it. Maybe it was some sort of rollover from our shared nightmares.

Juhani crumpled to her knees before me. Her golden eyes bulged from her head and the skin around her nose that peeked through the fur was ashen.

What happened?

I looked down and saw that my right hand was outstretched, my hand balled into a hard fist. Beneath the whitened knuckles of my fist I could feel a pulse that was steadily slowing. Like a heartbeat. Juhani's heartbeat.

With a gasp I released my hand. Juhani immediately clutched at her chest and choked on the afternoon air. As the heaving of her ribs became more regular, I felt a wave of horror wash over me. I stared at my fingertips, fear with a dash of awe were the prominent feelings surrounding the potential power that could explode from me.

I heard slaps from behind me which I presumed to be Canderous beating the fire from his leg. A few cuss words later and I was certain of that fact. My eyes never left Juhani.

"You are strong." she wheezed. "Stronger than me, even in my darkness."

"That was a neat trick." Canderous stepped beside me, a fresh cigarra in his mouth. "What did you do?"

"I don't know." I murmured.

What the hell did I do, anyway? I was scared senseless and I froze up. No, I didn't freeze, I retreated. And while I ran to hide in the inner depths of my brain, something else, some sort of autopilot, kicked in to save my sorry butt.

It worked. But I had almost killed someone. Granted, she was trying to kill me, but it was of her own volition. I had no idea what I was doing until she was nearly dead.

From her hands and knees, Juhani looked up at me with something akin to respect. "Why do you bother me?" she asked.

Canderous grinned and loaded a charge into his blaster. I scowled and put a hand over the scope and pushed it down.

"I just want to talk." I told him.

Canderous snorted, but he went back to quietly smoking his cigarra.

"Talk?" Juhani scoffed. "You who have beaten me so easily just want to talk? I do not believe it. Kill me now while you still have the power."

"No."

"No, why?" Juhani's lower lip trembled as she fought against frowning.

Her eyes were so sincere. It made me pause, as I searched for the correct words. Despite the thick bundle of tensed muscle in her shoulders, Juhani managed to look fragile.

I was finally able to force myself to speak. "Because you're powerful and because your heart is good."

And because of the guilt of almost destroying her without a second thought. Maybe it was a normal Jedi thing? Juhani didn't need to hear that.

"A weakling can kill just as easily as a strong person." I said.

Juhani shook her head. "Yet even with your naïve attitude you managed to beat me." she murmured. "I am pathetic. I sit here and think myself to be great by embracing the Dark Side, but I am nothing! There is no way that I could be turned back!"

"So, because you're too much of a coward to control your destiny you want me to end your sniveling?" The words slipped from my mouth. I wanted to stop, but Juhani's ears had perked up so I continued. "Don't waste my time.

Juhani's mouth hung open loosely. Canderous gave me a nod of approval. I turned away from Juhani, prepared to leave the grove.

I didn't take a step before I felt her hand wrapped around my ankle. I looked back to see Juhani at my feet, her forehead lined with determination.

"I seem to still have much to learn." she said meekly. "I only wish the cost of my ignorance had not been so high. I wish that my Master had not suffered because of me."

I knelt beside Juhani and placed my hand on her shoulder. "It's stupid to blame yourself for a choice that your Master made."

"If she were alive now, there would be so much I would say to her." Juhani lamented. "So much I would apologize for. I think in my own way, I truly loved her. How can the council take me back with what I have done? Striking my Master down in anger is unforgivable!"

"Says who?" I asked. "The council? Show them that you've freed yourself of this base passion."

"If I show them that I am free of passion, that I am serene, that I am willing to forsake the Dark Side." Juhani's lilting accent lost its waver. "Just maybe they would accept me back. Do you think they would? Could it be possible after what I have done?"

"Show them your sincerity." I shrugged. How hard could it be to become a Jedi? They accepted me.

"I thank you, Master Jedi." Juhani stood and bowed before me. "I will return to the council, then. I shall submit myself to their judgment and hope they will forgive me. I only wish there was some way that I could repay you."

"I already have one life-debt." I told her. "I wouldn't appreciate another. See to taking care of yourself first."

"Again, I thank you." Juhani said. "I am sure I will hear great things about you in the future."

One final nod and Juhani turned and headed into the plains. I looked over at Canderous.

"Thanks for nothing."

Canderous smirked. "It's a damn stupid idea for someone who's not a Force adept to charge head on into battle with a Jedi." he said.

"We didn't know what was in the grove, anyway." I agreed.

"You were lucky." Canderous reflected. "That Cathar could have gutted you from throat to groin if she felt like it."

"So that's what a Cathar looks like." I mused. "I don't think she had it in her to really hurt me."

"That's where you're wrong." Canderous said. "The Cathar are known for their violent tempers and their battle prowess. All it would have taken was one wrong word, one slip up on your part and you would have been dead."

"But I'm not." I offered. "Juhani didn't want more death, she just wanted acceptance, I think."

"Something's coming." Canderous said.

I perked my ears up and listened. The thunderous sound of boots pounding along the soil echoed in my eardrums.

"What the hell is that?" I demanded.

"They're too far away to tell." Canderous retorted.

"Can you still fight?" I asked.

"My foot's broken." he said.

"Your hand's not." I snapped. "That's all you need to operate your blaster."

"I didn't say I wouldn't fight." Canderous snarled. "I just meant that I wouldn't be able to move around very fast."

"Well, get ready, because here they come."


	53. Home

Author's Note: Sammie Teufel gets the 100th review prize! A Canderous plushie that's in touch with its feminine side...

* * *

Juhani:

I had been beaten. So easily, like an insect cast into a maelstrom, I was brought to my knees. She should have killed me, ended my miserable existence.

Instead, I found myself in the plains of Dantooine. The long wisps of dried grass tickled my bare feet as I headed towards the Jedi enclave. I had once called the enclave home. Perhaps, I could call it home again.

But would it feel like I had remembered it? Quatra was dead and I knew what it was like to taste darkness.

The memory of her crumpled form would wake me from my sleep even in the height of my dark power. She was beautiful, even death could not rob the natural luster of her deep olive skin. I was a weakling.

The day I turned from the Light, Quatra had looked exceptionally lovely. Her plain dun Jedi robes had been replaced by a rust red tunic trimmed in deep brown. Quatra's lavishly oiled lekku rested calmly on her shoulders and she seemed to glow with anticipation as she led me into the Dantooine plains.

There had been rumors in the enclave that week that she was planning to accept me as a Knight in the Order and I foolishly was excited by this. People do not just simply become Jedi Knights. There are tests. And sometimes, they fail.

I was no exception. I had expected a show of lightsaber prowess perhaps. Instead, she broke my heart.

Cruel kisses and laughter in an attempt to test the limits of my anger. My rage had been limitless.

It was so easy to embrace the Dark Side. I could have stayed in my grove for an eternity had it not been for that one brave Jedi that sought me out. It only pained me that I couldn't undo the damage that I had unleashed. Regret was a deadly poison.

The Jedi enclave came into view and I quickened my pace. I had to go at that moment or I never would. As soon as my foot grazed the Jedi property, I urged myself to slow down.

There were a few startled gasps from random settlers as I reached the enclave. I probably appeared hideous to them. Grease held my topknot in place, my robe was tattered and soiled, a cut slashed across my knee where I had fallen under the strength of that woman Jedi. Their stares, like parasites, ate at my resolve. I wanted to turn and flee back to the grove.

"Juhani? Is that really you, child?"

I flinched at my own name. I looked over tentatively. Behind the pale blue of Nemo's eyes was nothing but warmth. Compassion. The old Jedi, old friend, took a few hesitant steps towards me.

"I've come home." I whispered. Why did I sound so weak?

"Child, are you alright?" he asked.

I couldn't look at him. I shook my head and buried my face into Nemo's chest. Covered by paper thin skin, the strong muscles of his arms held me as I shook with my humiliated tears.

The salt water spilled over the front of his Jedi robe and I sucked controlled breaths of air deep into my lungs. I refused to sob.

"Hush, Juhani." Nemo urged softly. "You're stronger than this."

I bit down on my lower lip and forced my eyes to dry. I stiffly pulled myself away from Nemo and dared a glance at his eyes.

His words were cold and Jedi-like, but his eyes were human. They were so welcoming and tender. Perhaps they had always been.

"Yes, that resolved, determined look." he coaxed. "That is more like the child that grew under Quatra's guidance."

His words made me want to retreat to his arms again. I chewed harder on my lip instead. I concentrated on the blood that came from the broken flesh in my mouth as I prepared for what Nemo would say next.

"The Masters are waiting for you, Juhani." he said. "You shouldn't keep them waiting."

"No." I took a deep breath. "I should not. Will you accompany me, Nemo?"

"Of course."

Nemo walked at my side and I carefully matched his stride with my own. As we neared the council hall, I kept my eyes averted from any possible onlookers. I couldn't face them. Not yet.

Nemo was right. All four masters were in the hall waiting patiently, as if they had expected me. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and entered the room.

"You have returned, Juhani." Master Zhar said.

"I was wrong." I murmured. "I was mistaken."

"Yet you have once again embraced the Light." Master Vandar pointed out.

I nodded. "I only wish that my master, Quatra, had not suffered because of me."

Master Vandar's long ears twitched. "Quatra knew the risks involved in provoking your anger, Padawan. But she is well now."

"Quatra is well?" My heart stopped dead in my chest.

"She was greatly saddened by your fall, but understood." Master Zhar said.

"I thought I slew her." I whispered.

"Quatra is a Jedi Master. She knew what she was doing." Master Vandar assured.

"So she is alive, has been alive all along." I mused.

Rage flared up again, but was quickly doused with relief. Quatra was alive and well. Some things were more important than personal betrayal.

"It is good that Quatra is safe." I said.

Nemo gave me an encouraging smile.

"Please, tell us what made you decide to come back, Padawan." Master Dorak urged.

"You sent a Jedi Master to cleanse the grove and in the process we fought and I lost." I recalled.

Master Vandar and Master Zhar shared a look.

Master Vrook snorted. "Nonsense." he said. "Do not credit Rian Vega with your own personal strength."

Rian Vega. I would have to remember that name. Perhaps, one day I would be able to repay her.

"Master Vrook, peace." Master Vandar instructed.

"I will not still my tongue at the truth." Master Vrook insisted.

"I do not understand." My voice cut through their tension. "Had Master Rian not come, I would be in the grove still."

"That was a task for a Jedi Knight, not an Apprentice." Master Vrook argued. "Had Juhani not truly desired to return to the Light, one or both would be dead now."

An Apprentice? Rian Vega was an Apprentice? Impossible!

"Master Vrook, we know what Rian Vega is capable of, that is why we sent her." Master Vandar explained.

"Yes, I know what that foolhardy child is capable of." Master Vrook retorted. "That's why I think you took an incalculable risk."

"Peace, Vrook. You are letting your emotions guide you." Master Vandar warned.

"And you are letting desperation guide you." Master Vrook replied.

"Enough." Master Dorak interrupted. "This should be discussed in private."

"Master Dorak is correct." Master Vandar nodded.

Master Vrook didn't respond. He took a step back from the group of Masters and remained sullen.

"I cannot see how Rian Vega is merely an Apprentice." I offered quietly. "Her skill of the Force surpassed my own."

"What did she do, Padawan?" Master Zhar asked.

Instead of placid on his shoulders, Master Zhar's pale red lekku were restless. I felt unnerved. I took a deep breath.

"Her eyes glazed over and her hand formed a fist." I explained. "As she did so, I felt an increasing pressure in my chest. I collapsed dizzy and in pain."

"You're fortunate to be alive, child." Master Vrook murmured.

"That is interesting." Master Zhar mused. "Perhaps we should watch Rian Vega's development more closely."

"Please excuse us, Juhani." Master Vandar said. "There is much we need to discuss. You should see Belaya, she has missed you."

"As you wish, Masters." I bowed and left the room.

So much had changed in my absence. But much had also stayed the same. I headed down the corridors towards Belaya's room.


	54. Saul

Carth:

The grove was a couple of yards away; my fully charged blasters were warm in my hands. My heart drummed loudly in my ears, if anything happened to Rian— Blast it! Why was that woman so stupid?

I had told her once not to trust anybody, not me, not herself. I should have thought to have included that damned Jedi council. Not that she listened to me anyway; the idea of whatever it was that was destroying the flora and fauna out here probably sounded like a killer time to her.

Maybe Canderous was able to protect her. Just because I didn't like him, didn't mean that I was going to deny the fact that the Mandalorian was a powerhouse. Of course, we had found the grove by having Zaalbar follow the scent of Canderous' blood. Not a good sign.

So we ran as fast as we could while my fingers twitched over the blaster triggers nervously. And what I saw when we reached those white pillars very nearly made me want to strangle Rian.

They loomed in the entrance to the grove; the sun outlined them like action stars from one of Mission's holo-vids. Rian had a smile of death on her face as the wind rustled her short black hair. Canderous' face was marked with blood and grim determination. Both of their weapons were poised and ready, aimed towards us.

"Rian?" I tried not to groan.

The carefully perfected terror-instilling look died on her face and was replaced with disappointment.

"Carth?" Rian cocked her head to one side. "What are you doing here?"

Zaalbar barked something and Mission piped in as she scrambled over to Rian.

"Yeah!" Mission chimed. "We didn't like the idea of the Jedi sending you to this grove by yourself, so we were coming to help you."

"Thanks, but I was alright." Rian assured.

Canderous plopped down on the ground next to her and wrenched the boot from his foot. His pant leg had been singed and a second degree burn had worked its way up the Mandalorian's calf.

"What happened to you?" Mission sounded disgusted.

"It's the price of a worthy battle." Canderous muttered between the cigarra in his teeth.

"What did you face in this grove, anyway?" I asked.

"A Cathar Jedi." Rian answered. She offered Canderous a sidelong glance as he tended to his many wounds.

I bit down on my anger. "So it was just some petty test against one of their own?" I demanded.

Canderous laughed. "Obviously you've never met a Cathar before."

"Maybe _Jedi_ was the wrong word." Rian said hesitantly.

I glowered at her. "What does that mean?"

"Well, she was a Jedi." Rian explained. "Only, she embraced the Dark Side. Don't look at me like that!"

"That Cathar could have killed you!" I exploded.

"I'm not dead yet." was Rian's argument.

"And you think that, that deems your actions acceptable?" I demanded. "Unbelievable!"

Rian flashed me her teeth in an excruciatingly cheeky grin. Mission laughed and threw her arms around the older woman.

"I give up." I muttered to myself.

I sat down next to Canderous. I had smoked as a teenager, because it was an easy way to piss off my parents, but I hadn't touched a cigarra since Morgana became pregnant. Yet now, the cigarra smoke that surrounded Canderous smelled sweet and enticing. I could very nearly kiss the Mandalorian just to suck the drug from his mouth.

I decided that a smarter course of action would be to dig out some kolto and bacta from my pack. I passed them on to Canderous. He grunted his thanks, tossed the kolto aside and tore into the bacta. I gave a resigned sigh and hoped that Canderous didn't catch on that I reveled in his second-hand smoke.

"Canderous, do you need to wait for your implant to catch up to all your injuries?" Rian asked.

Implant? What was she talking about?

"No." was Canderous' brisk answer.

"Suit yourself." Rian replied. "I'm going to head back to the Jedi enclave to report that the grove has been cleansed."

"Wait just a minute!" I spluttered.

Rian raised an eyebrow.

"You're just going to run right back to the Jedi and report on everything that just happened?" I demanded.

"Why not?" Rian asked.

"Don't you think that's a little naïve?"

I didn't like the look that woman was giving me. My tongue felt heavy and cumbersome. Damned Dodonna and the damned Republic should have sent me to Hoth.

I forced myself to continue. "I mean, why trust the Jedi? They're obviously hiding things from you. From all of us."

"So are you." Rian said tartly.

"What?" I exclaimed.

I heard Mission giggle. Zaalbar put a furry hand on the girl's shoulder and she snuffed her laughter with a palm.

"You are." Rian continued. "Every time I try to have a discussion with you, you put it off. Are you going to suggest that we get back to the 'task at hand' again, Carth? My mission's done right now."

This crap again? Why was she so interested?

"I thought I said I didn't want to talk about it anymore." I said with as much calm as I could muster.

"I think you owe me an explanation, Carth Onasi." Rian's nostril flared up as she spoke.

Mission landed on her bottom and leaned forward. The gleam in her eyes matched her earlier excitement for the droid hunt. At least someone was entertained.

"Listen sister, just because we're working together does not mean you get to badger me with constant questions." I growled. "Especially not in front of everyone else!"

"You're damn right it does!" Rian bellowed.

"Blast it if you aren't the most frustrating woman to talk to!" I exploded. "Isn't there someone else you can harass for a little while?"

Rian gave a dry chuckle. "I'm frustrating?" She raised an eyebrow. "Look who's talking."

"Me?"

Mission guffawed.

"What did I do?" I asked.

"Oh that's rich." Rian snorted. "Where have you been?"

"I," I sighed. "okay, I give up. You win."

We were talking about the Jedi. How the hell did she twist this into an attack on me?

"I suppose I could use someone to talk to. I'm just not used to it." I admitted. "I don't know why you're so interested, but here goes. When I think of all the men who have betrayed us, the one that stands out above them all is the one I respected the most. Saul."

"That name sounds familiar." Rian mused.

Canderous nodded in agreement.

"With good reason." I told her. "Admiral Saul Karath is the commander of the entire Sith fleet. He's half the reason Malak has done so well in the war.

"Saul was my commanding officer back when the Mandalorian Wars first began. He taught me everything I know about being a soldier."

Mission's cheerful laughter had died. Rian was regarding me carefully to the point it made me uncomfortable. I couldn't decipher anything from either Canderous' or Zaalbar's expressions. I sighed.

"I looked up to him." I admitted. "Saul approached me before he left. He talked to me about how the Republic was on the losing side and about how I should start thinking of my survival.

"I know now that he was trying to recruit me into the Sith, but I couldn't have conceived of it back then."

Damn it, this was why I had kept this to myself. Mission's eyes were misty and her head cocked to one side. Rian's face had softened. They were both sympathetic. More sympathy.

Poor Carth Onasi, his father-figure betrayed him and blew up his home world. What a sad tale, I should have just told them about my wife and son too to get it out of the way. As it was, I was certain Mission at least would be trailing me around the Ebon Hawk to mother me and to offer a dry shoulder for my tears. It was exactly what I didn't want.

"Anyway, I argued with him and he got angry and he left. I never saw him again." I ended the story as quickly as possible.

"You didn't think he would betray the Republic?" Canderous' voice was flat and emotionless.

Rian shot him a warning glare. Blood pounded at my temples.

"Saul was my mentor. He led us to so many victories against the _Mandalorians_," I bit into that word harshly.

The bastard didn't even flinch.

"Even when things looked to be the worst. I just…" I sighed. "I couldn't conceive of it. He couldn't be serious. I was wrong of course."

Rian put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. "You don't have to keep on going if you don't want to."

There was that pity again. It propelled me to continue.

"He not only left us for the Sith, he gave them the codes to bypass our scanners." I blurted out. "I remember waking up as the first of the Sith bombers snuck past our defenses and began destroying half of our docked ships. I knew right away what had happened. I could have stopped him, could have stopped it all."

"Do you really believe that?" Rian whispered.

Her face was still soft, but it was tinged with something else. A slight contempt that filled me with relief.

"Maybe."

Mission flinched at the bitterness in my voice.

"If I ever catch up with Saul again, he will regret it." I promised. "He will regret it."

"So that's all of it, then?" Rian murmured for my ears alone.

"No, but I don't want to talk about it right now." I replied.

"Fair enough." She nodded and turned to the rest of our group. "Time to see what the Jedi have in store for me."

That would have been enough of a headache for me, but Rian had to look at me and say, "Carth, go help Canderous hobble back to the Ebon Hawk."


	55. Jedi Business

Rian:

"You have done well, my pupil…"

I stood in the council chamber with an idiot's grin plastered on my face. I'd just sit there and smile while Master Zhar droned on. Hopefully, they'd be quick about it this time, I was starved and my Jedi robe was riding up into some unknown, but definitely uncomfortable areas.

I was about to sigh with relief as Master Zhar finished, but that was when Master Vandar felt the need to put his own spin on things. So while I tried vainly to conjure up the taste of a nerf burger, that shriveled, green little monster rambled on about a missing Jedi and some dangerous sounding ancient ruins.

"What happened to the Jedi who went to investigate?" Bastila asked.

With all that had happened at the grove I had almost forgotten what a pain she was to have around. But there she was, practically licking the Jedi Masters' boots with nothing but a scowl for me. I was linked to that? Couldn't I have gotten a bond buddy a little more pleasant, like a sleep deprived Hutt?

Master Vandar politely answered Bastila's question as vaguely as possible. The gist of things as I saw it was that since I hadn't managed to get killed by that Cathar, the Jedi Masters wanted to see if whatever that was in the ancient ruins would be enough to make me keel over.

"Padawans, before you leave, there is another matter that you may want to look into." Master Vrook said.

Two feuding families, each accusing the other of kidnapping their son. I couldn't help but laugh. Bastila shot me a look with her scowling face and I laughed harder.

"You don't want me involved." I told Master Vrook. "I'm not exactly the type to diffuse a difficult situation."

"It is in the real world, not chasing after ancient ruins, that we truly prove ourselves worthy of the title Jedi." Master Vrook lectured.

I groaned. That old geezer should have just told me he hated me and gotten it out of his system.

"I know a couple folks that would be better qualified for the job." I said. "With the reputation of the Jedi at stake, you wouldn't want me mucking things up."

Before Master Vrook could argue, I winked at him and grabbed Bastila by the arm. Master Vrook's pasty skin boiled scarlet with rage. That was my cue to turn around and scurry off, Bastila in tow.

Bastila wasn't any happier than Master Vrook. Her plump lower lip stuck out in a furious pout.

Once I had dragged her from the council chamber, Bastila forcibly removed my grip from her arm.

"Are you mad?" she demanded. "I have never seen anyone so disrespectful and impudent to the Masters. It's honestly beyond me why they stand for your ungrateful behavior."

I gave an agitated jerk to the cloth at the backside of my Jedi robe. "Do you really want to watch me while I chat up settlers over some missing boys?" I replied. "That sounds disastrous to me."

"Can't you see that it's a test?" Bastila asked.

"And going to those ruins isn't?" I countered. "Everything with those old guys is a test."

"But if the Masters wish that we investigate the disappearances of Cassus Sandral and Shen Matale then we should." Bastila insisted.

"What would you rather do?" I asked. "Explore some ruins that could be the root of our shared nightmares or go poke sticks at a festering blood feud that doesn't involve us?"

"I doubt that the Jedi Masters want us to 'poke sticks,' as you've so eloquently put it, at the Sandral's and Matale's hate for one another." Bastila's voice was clipped and agitated. "I'm sure that the ancient ruins will still be standing after we resolve the settler's conflict."

"You can go play mediator with the settlers." I snorted. "But don't expect me to wait around for you to finish. I'm going to figure out what's up with those ruins."

"Someone needs to take care of the settler's dispute." Bastila argued.

"And I know a couple some_ones_ perfect for the job." I assured her. "Trust me."

"I'm beginning to realize why Carth is so wary to trust." Bastila muttered.

"Not you too." I groaned. "Is paranoia contagious?"

Bastila sniffed, but said nothing. I couldn't sense any substantial thoughts through our bond, she guarded those closely, but the spikes of fear and disgust were overwhelming when they slipped past her barrier. It was a small wonder that the woman managed not to retch her insides up at my very presence.

It was one thing for me and Bastila to share a mutual dislike, but to actually feel her emotions almost as deeply as my own was disheartening. Her revulsion, my annoyance, her panic, my anger, her sneer, my vulgar hand gestures; the closer we got to one another the stronger the waves of emotions that would ricochet between us.

"…Are you even listening to me?" Bastila asked.

"Huh?" I looked over at Bastila.

"Apparently not." she concluded. "I just wanted to know who you were planning on assigning the Sandral-Matale feud to."

I considered not telling her for a moment. But I was positive Bastila would find out anyway.

"Zaalbar and Mission." I said.

"A Wookiee and a child?" Bastila's blue eyes narrowed. "Is this some sort of jest?"

"Do you have a problem with my decision?" I raised an eyebrow.

Bastila didn't shrink away. That woman was going to take more work than even Carth.

"Those feebleminded settlers will see Zaalbar as an uncouth animal and they won't respect anything that Mission tells them." Bastila reasoned.

"Zaalbar may have already outlived those 'feebleminded' settlers by a century." I argued. "He's calm and levelheaded. Mission's got charm and spunk. Between the two of them, I'm sure they can reach a solution."

"I don't doubt their ability in problem solving." Bastila continued. "I'm just worried that the settlers won't accept it based on their own prejudices."

I nodded slowly. "What do you suggest then?"

"Perhaps if an adult was to accompany them." Bastila said.

"An adult?" I chortled. "Like who?"

"Perhaps you or I—"

"You can go if you want, but I'm heading to those ruins."

"Or maybe Carth." she muttered hotly.

"We can ask him, but I'm sure he'll be a big baby regardless." I replied. "Now come on, I'm starved. I want to grab something to eat before we head out."

Bastila just shook her head and followed me to the Ebon Hawk. That bond was getting to be bothersome. I bet that there was some way to remove but the Jedi Masters just weren't saying what because they were meddlers. I'd have to figure it out on my own then.

In the main room of the Ebon Hawk was a party of ambivalence. Mission feigned interest in some slop she was eating while simultaneously jabbing Zaalbar with her Tchun when she thought the Wookiee wasn't looking. Carth was drowning in a mug of caffa while Canderous and T3-M4 were in the thralls of a staring contest.

Bastila's eyes were icy with disapproval, but she kept quiet. I grinned and plopped down next to Mission. She had her lips pulled back as she tried to nibble on whatever it was on her fork. The Twi'lek girl made it seem like if the food came in contact with her lips, her flesh would burn away. The Wookiee must have cooked it.

"I've got something to keep you busy." I announced.

Mission flicked her sludge back into its bowl and grinned. "As much as I enjoy helping horny housewives track down their fleeing droids, I have been getting sort of bored."

Droids and horny housewives? Maybe Dantooine wasn't quite the harmless hayfield I suspected it to be.

"There are two families that are missing a son each." I explained. "I want you and Zaalbar to sort out that mess."

Mission raised an eyebrow. "What's in it for me?"

"That or somebody needs to clean the Wookiee hair out of the 'fresher." I threatened.

"Gross!" Mission's lekku shifted as she hurtled obscenity after obscenity at me silently.

"Call me that ever again and I won't be the only maimed Twi'lek." I warned.

Mission's lekku froze and she shot me an incredulous look. "Humans can't understand Twi'leki."

" Oh? " I flipped over to the girl's native tongue. " Why not? "

" Not the spoken language, that's easy, laser brain. " Mission retorted. " But the subtleties of our dancing lekku can only be understood by a fellow Twi'lek. "

"I can understand every little smart mouthed comment you make with them." I shrugged.

"Mission's right, Rian." Bastila said. "Linguists have been trying to record all the movements involved in the Twi'leki lekku language. It's impossible."

"I'm not lying." I growled.

I scanned the room for support. Canderous had pried a panel off the front of T3-M4 and looked to be in the process of reprogramming the droid. He was ignoring everyone else. Zaalbar made no move; he probably didn't want to have to choose a side in the matter. I glared at Carth.

"Hey, don't look at me." Carth threw his hands up defensively. "I can only understand Huttese and smatterings of Mandalorian."

Canderous snorted at that.

"I'm not lying." I repeated.

"I know that." Bastila said.

The woman should have just stabbed me in the kidneys. Of all the people to come to my defense, why did it have to be her?

"You believe me?" I spluttered.

"I sense no deception from you." she replied. "I don't have to believe you. I know."

Show off.

"Whatever." Mission interrupted. "So you want me and Big Z to hunt down some missing boys?"

"That's the plan." I agreed.

"Carth will accompany you two as well." Bastila announced.

I almost giggled at the caustic silence that followed. Mission arched an eyebrow and if I had been insulted by the previous insults her lekku had motioned, well, let's just say that I had no idea how vile she could truly be. Incoherent splutters were all that I could hear from Carth as he dumped his caffa on the tabletop. Even Canderous, his hands blackened with what I fancied to think was the little droid's blood, looked up from his work.

"Where will you and Bastila be when we're doing your work?" Carth finally asked.

I ground my teeth. That suspicion, well deserved or not, was getting pretty irritating.

"That is strictly Jedi business, Carth." Bastila cut in.

"We're going to explore some ruins." I offered. "Just a lot of dead history. Boring, really."

"So boring, the Jedi don't want others nosing in on it?" Carth accused. He pretended to be preoccupied with soaking the spilt caffa up with a dirty handkerchief.

I shrugged. Bastila scowled at me.

"It would be best for you to leave Jedi matters to Jedi." Bastila urged.

"I'm not going to be strung along blindly, damn it." Carth pounded his fist on the table. The spoon in the empty caffa mug rattled. "I'm coming with you."

"That went well." I muttered.

Bastila gave me a curt smile. The blistering rage that mauled me through our bond betrayed the forced sweetness in her voice.

"Very well." she said. "Carth will come with us."

"Fine." I replied. "Canderous will look after Mission."

The Mandalorian gave me such a look I decided that it might be in my best interest to trip and fall on my lightsaber.

"Wait just a minute." Mission demanded. "First of all I don't need no damn babysitter and secondly, what makes you think Mr. bloodthirsty psycho killer is the perfect candidate?"

I didn't need this. A spasm at my temple compelled me to stand up and walk out of the main room. I recalled some blue ale being in the medical bay. I'd be ready to talk some more once I had washed the last of my inhibitions away.


	56. Guff

Canderous:

"Whoa. Look at this kid. He's a kath hound chew toy!" Mission exclaimed. The girl circled the corpse, jabbing it where she saw appropriate.

"So that old bastard was telling the truth." I bit down on my cigarra.

"He's still an old bastard," Mission grunted.

The Wookiee growled at her.

"What?" she demanded. "He is."

For as old as he was, Ahlan Matale wasn't very bright. The only person remotely interested in helping him, he insulted. Then to make matters worse, he tried to bribe her a meager sliver of what the child could have made on a poor day of scamming folks on Taris.

Mission handled it better than I wished. She was satisfied with a handful of crude remarks before she stormed out of the Matale Estate, Wookiee in tow. I had snorted and tossed my lit cigarra butt on the floor as I followed them.

Rian had known something when she decided on sending the ragamuffin duo out on this mission. The girl didn't put up with any guff, which was all that Ahlan Matale had been capable of producing. And if she ever got out of line, the Wookiee was there to calm her.

It made for a boring afternoon. It could have been worse. Sure, the ancient ruins that Rian was headed to sounded challenging, but she was stuck with that Jedi bitch.

After that petty squabble in the Ebon Hawk, Rian had drunk herself into a frenzy and passed out. Mission had been wise enough to have us slip out before Rian woke. I was glad to not be present for that headache.

Mission was a headache all to herself. She seemed to still hold a grudge for me nearly killing her. If there was ever a next time, I made a note to make sure that I follow through.

Mission snapped the dead boy's datapad shut and slipped it into a sack that she tossed at the Wookiee.

"We should let the Sandrals know that Cassus won't be coming home for dinner anytime soon," Mission said.

The Wookiee rumbled something, which she scowled at. Aside from my native tongue and Basic, I was familiar with Huttese, Twi'leki, Rodese and the Cathar language. It was rare to see a Wookiee in a spaceport and my people had never battled against them, so it would have been a waste learning the language. Now, it was bothersome.

I wouldn't have doubted that those two were planning to kill me. It wouldn't have been intelligent, but it would certainly have brightened my day. I was a warrior, not a diplomat; I would welcome the chance to face off against two worthy combatants instead of wearing the meek smile of a Jedi whipping boy.

As we walked through the plains towards the Sandral Estate, Mission and her Wookiee huddled together and whispered. I resisted the urge to light another cigarra. This trip to Dantooine had already cost me more than half of Davik's cache. I was going to have to find a leaf shop soon if this was to continue.

"This is private property! By what authority are you trespassing on this estate?" The protocol droid bumbled up to us.

Mission giggled. "I have never met a protocol droid that wasn't stuffy."

"Please explain yourself, child," the droid clucked. "Otherwise I will have to call on the war droids if you do not leave the premises."

I fingered my repeating blaster, ready.

"Now you just wait a minute," Mission demanded. "I'll have you know that I can be on this property anytime I feel like it. What your rusted out brain can't handle is—"

The Wookiee's roar interrupted the girl's tirade. Mission scowled.

The droid turned to face the Wookiee. "Cassus Sandral is dead?" it asked.

The Wookiee nodded.

The droid sighed. "Then it is as we feared. You should speak to Nurik yourself. He will want to question you on the details of his son's death."

The massive doors to the estate creaked open and the droid ushered us inside. I ignored the request to disarm and kept my eyes on the fine woven carpet.

An older gentleman greeted us in the foyer. A gnarled hickory stump of a man, Nurik Sandral had seen better days. His red rimmed eyes reminded me of the mad rage seen in a wild animal caged.

"I have been informed by my protocol droid that you have news about my son, Cassus," he said slowly. The gravelly timber of his voice made me think that he had once been a man of worth.

Mission darted a glance to the Wookiee. He muttered something to her and she sighed.

"Cassus Sandral is dead," she said reluctantly.

"Cassus is dead?" Nurik Sandral's dark eyes widened as if he had just noticed us. "I was afraid of this, yet in my heart I knew it must be true. What happened to my son?"

"He was killed by kath hounds while exploring the Dantooine ruins." Mission reached a hand out and curled her fingers in the Wookiee's stomach fur.

"Kath hounds…"

The man's eyes were unsettling. There was something in the way they trailed over the room like a diseased kinrath. If he tried to look at me I would cut them out.

"I was so certain the Matale family was to blame," Sandral said. "But this changes nothing! My son is dead, why should I shed one tear about the disappearance of my bitter enemy's son?"

The Wookiee snorted.

"I must ask you something," Sandral said. "My son had a diary. His private, personal thoughts. Now that he is gone, I have nothing else to remember him by. Please, the diary means more to me than it ever could to you. I will give you 100 credits for its return."

Mission smiled until she received a stern look from the Wookiee. Her lekku twitched as she handed Sandral the datapad.

"Keep your money," she grumbled.

"I thank you for this." Sandral ran a reverent hand over the datapad before he tucked it into his robe. "The diary is all that I have left of my Cassus. We have nothing further to discuss. Please, leave me to my grief."

Sandral walked from the room, leaving Mission to stare at his back gap jawed. The Twi'lek girl scowled and stuck out her tongue at the man as he exited.

"Well, what do we do now, Big Z?" she asked. "We can't really go knock on his door and say, 'Hello there, grieving man! We don't believe you when you say that you don't know anything about Shen Matale's disappearance.' Damned Sithspawn."

"You are from the council, are you not?"

A tall, slender woman emerged from a doorway. Another Sandral, but her age gave her a naïve compassion that her father lacked.

"Looking for Shen Matale?" she asked.

Mission shrugged. "We just came to tell Nurik Sandral about his son."

"My name is Rahasia, Nurik is my father." Rahasia clasped Mission's hands in her own and offered the Twi'lek a polite bow.

Mission stared skeptically at the commonplace courtesy.

"You must forgive my father," Rahasia explained. "He hasn't been himself since Cassus disappeared. He is mad with grief and is convinced that the Matale's are responsible."

"And you're so certain they're not?" I stepped forward.

Rahasia swallowed the gasp that tried to escape her throat. She stared up at me defiantly, her eyes pools of shadow.

"My father is not thinking rationally," Rahasia said crisply.

Mission glared at me and waved her fist. I sighed and lit up another cigarra.

"We found Cassus' body," she told Rahasia. "He was killed by kath hounds. The Matale family had nothing to do with it."

"Cassus is dead?" Rahasia's eyes widened for a brief moment. "Then it is as we feared, though I am relieved the Matales are not responsible."

"We better get back and wait for Rian," Mission suggested.

The Wookiee was the first to reach the door. I followed quickly, if only to avoid destroying that damned protocol droid that was spraying air freshener in my general vicinity.

"My father is a good man," Rahasia continued to our backs. "I just don't want you to judge him too harshly."

"Harshly?" Mission stopped. "Why? What has your father done?"

Rahasia glanced back at the door her father retreated to, then faced us. "You must understand that my father has been under a terrible strain. I have no wish to disobey him, but there are matters where even my father's authority is not absolute."

"Talk," Mission ordered. "Stop dancing around the topic."

The woman's dark eyes darted suspiciously around the room. Rahasia sent the protocol droid off on some worthless task before her attention was once again ours. She lowered her voice.

"My father has kidnapped Shen Matale," Rahasia whispered. "He feels that this is a way to get back at the Matales, a way to get even for the disappearance of my brother."

Mission was startling in her ability to handle the situation so professionally. Only a slightly raised eyebrow betrayed the child's collected exterior as she promised to free the Matale whelp. A terse handshake and a trite farewell later and we were able to leave the estate.

In the relative safety of outside the Sandral estate, Mission crouched over the grass and batted at the overgrown blades. Her face was as sulky as it was thoughtful.

"You don't think there's more to look at here, do you?" Mission asked the Wookiee.

The Wookiee replied in his brutish tongue and scratched the back of his head. Mission sighed.

"That's what I thought," Mission agreed. "That maybe everything wasn't what it seemed."

"What's our plan of action now?" I asked.

Mission crinkled her nose in my direction. "We sneak into the back of the property and bust Shen out."

"Lead the way," I said. "I've got your back."

"Zaalbar has my back," the child snapped. "You could go suck on a thermal detonator for all I care."

The last person that spoke to me with that tone had their tongue torn from their jaw. The child needed discipline and I was unwilling to teach her the virtue. Let Onasi try. Despite his military upbringing it was obvious that he had a weakness for beautiful faced children.

"Let's just be quick about it," I grunted. "I'd like to return you to Rian in one piece."


	57. Idyllic Stroll

Carth:

Sweat beaded at my brow as I trudged after Bastila. To be honest, I had been afraid that being stuck under the Jedi woman's leadership was going to be painstaking. So far, it hadn't been as bad as I had expected, of course, Rian wasn't fully conscious yet.

She had gotten pissed and drank until she passed out. After all the trouble she put Bastila through to head directly to the ruins, the Jedi wasn't going to be delayed by a minor difficulty like that. No, Carth Onasi was a perfect pack animal. With Rian draped over my shoulder we could still head out to our destination as originally planned.

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" I asked.

"I am well aware that this was a horrible decision, Carth," Bastila answered. "But it will serve Rian right if she's too incoherent to realize that a kath hound is gnawing on her leg."

"Did the Jedi teach you that?" I joked.

Bastila froze. There was a blazing inferno behind her blue eyes, but she remained calm.

"No, they did not," she replied. "Perhaps you are correct. This is wrong. We should wait for Rian to wake."

"I was only teasing," I said. "There are so few kath hounds right now that you don't even need my help keeping them at bay. Besides, I won't let anything happen to Rian."

"But there is so much room for disaster," Bastila countered. "It was a foolhardy idea. I let my emotions get the better of me."

"It happens to the best of us," I assured.

"As much as I like the close up view of your backside, pal, you need to put me down," Rian grumbled from my shoulder.

"You're awake," I noted.

"And about to be sick," Rian added.

As I felt her nose brush across the small of my back, the urgency in her voice dawned on me. I bent down and let the woman slide off of my shoulder. Rian tersely excused herself and proceeded to empty her insides over the idyllic plains.

"Carth," Bastila said.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?" I asked.

"For putting up with this," she replied.

"It can't really get much worse." I shrugged.

"I wish I shared your optimism." Bastila grimaced in Rian's direction.

Rian looked up and shot me a heavy lidded expression of hung over agony. Her short black hair defied gravity and her knees were grass stained.

I caught a disdainful sniff from Bastila as Rian stumbled over to us. The Jedi turned to gaze off into the horizon while Rian brushed herself off. I silently hoped that the first thing Rian planned on doing once we got back to the Ebon Hawk was jump in the 'fresher.

"Is she angry?" Rian asked.

"Not as bad as I thought she'd be," I replied. "What kind of stunt was that anyway?"

"There were too many voice, too much screaming," Rian muttered. "I couldn't take it. It's bad enough with Granddad and Bastila, I don't need everybody else doing the same."

"Granddad?"

"Just crazy lady babble, don't listen to me," Rian insisted a little too quickly.

"You're keeping things from me again," I growled.

"And you're so perfect?" she asked. "What about Morgana?"

"What do you know about that?" I demanded.

"Only that it's a damaged file on your personal datapad," Rian answered. "Although, judging from your reaction I think I hit a soft spot, huh?"

"Have you been snooping through my things?" Damn her and her damn curiosity. She had about as much tact as a drunken Gamorrean.

"I don't snoop," Rian snapped. "But Mission does. She told me about it. Apparently Zaalbar thinks that between him and the astromech, they can fix it."

"I'm going to have to have a word with that girl when we get back," I mumbled.

"From what I can see, I believe we'll reach the ruins a little after noon," Bastila announced. She looked at Rian. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a krayt dragon sat on my head," Rian grumbled.

"I suppose it's no more than you deserve," Bastila replied with a smile.

"I should have known better than to expect sympathy from you," Rian grunted.

"Maybe we should just head to the ruins," I suggested.

I won't lie, the thought of two gorgeous women assaulting each other sounds very appealing on a primitive level. Well, maybe on any level. But never in my wildest fantasies would I have given either woman a lightsaber or Force powers. Like back when I was an ensign my buddies would say, ladies shouldn't fight other ladies unless there's pudding involved.

"Yes. Heading towards the ruins sounds like a wonderful idea," Bastila snipped. "Are you feeling up to it, Rian?"

"Yeah, sure." Rian offered a weak smile.

Rian struggled with her own two feet behind me, while Bastila's pace was brisk. I said nothing. I had previously learned that rule number one in the Handbook for Angry Women was not to call attention to their hissy fits, because I wasn't part of the game so any input into said game was wrong.

I glanced back at Rian. "You know, it was faster when I carried you," I said. "Would you rather I pick you up again?"

Rian was walking death. The color had drained from her face leaving only jaundiced undertones beaded with sweat.

"No," she insisted weakly. "That shoulder in my gut isn't very conducive to, you know, not throwing up."

"Well, Bastila seems hell bent on getting to those ruins by noon," I replied. "You're slowing us down."

"Why noon?" Rian asked. "Are we going to have a picnic?"

Her eyes grew wide as Rian realized what she just did to herself. The mere mention of 'picnic' and the thoughts of food that accompanied the word had the small woman doubled over and emptying the contents of her stomach for a second time.

Bastila had stopped ahead of us. A frosty air of impatience seemed to emit from the Jedi. I reached over and put a hand on Rian's shoulder.

"You finished with all that?" I asked.

"I should be in the bathroom right now," Rian moaned. "The tiled floor in there is so nice and cool."

"You've got no one to blame for this one but yourself, sister," I said. "Now come here."

"No sympathy for the devil, huh?" Rian muttered.

Before she could protest, I scooped Rian up into my arms.

"I can walk!" Rian argued.

"Just like you could when you had your brains leaking out of the back of your head on Taris," I retorted. "Now shut up."

Rian sighed and wiped her mouth with the back of a hand. "I'll try not to puke on you," she grumbled.

"You know, those bags under your eyes match your irises." I snickered.

"I might've gotten upset by that if you weren't so damn ugly yourself." Rian's head lolled against my shoulder.

"Remind me to keep upwind of that breath of yours."

"I hate you."

I trotted up to Bastila who watched me with a blank expression. She spared Rian a glance before she focused on me again.

"She is in no condition to venture into those ruins," Bastila noted.

"Why don't we just head to the ruins and see what condition she's in when we reach it," I suggested.

"Very well," was Bastila's terse reply.

We walked in silence save for the crackling energy of Bastila's ignited double sided lightsaber. Rian was content to sulk while I hauled her worthless hide to where it was needed. I had to admit, there was something funny about a pouting "Jedi" with grass stained knees.

Apparently, the look on Bastila's face didn't unnerve just me, because the kath hounds kept their distance. As we progressed, Rian eventually took to sipping water from a canteen. Her recovery had begun. Soon, she'd want something small, like crackers or toast, then she'd be ready. As long as Rian didn't pull something stupid, like trying to inject some kolto directly into her temple, I figured everything would be alright.

By the time we reached the ruins, Rian was walking. Bastila had slowed considerably to match the other woman's pace and I desperately hoped that, that meant that they had come to a truce.

"I don't feel comfortable venturing into those ruins with Rian in her current state," Bastila admitted.

"What do you think we should do?" Rian asked.

Her voice was so earnest that I nearly gagged on my own tongue. Tatooine had just been flooded, they were being civil! If T3-M4 were there, I'd have had him make a record of it.

"I suppose you could try some healing meditation, but that could take a few hours," Bastila replied.

"Too long." Rian stuck out her tongue. "Maybe if I just drink some more water?"

"Ruins aren't exactly known for having accessible lavatories," Bastila said dryly.

I gnawed on my lip until I tasted blood. I wouldn't laugh. If I laughed, they'd remember that I was there and then I'd be stuck with Frosty and Belligerent again.

Rian shrugged. "I'll make due," she decided as she took a healthy swig from her canteen.

"I've never seen an architectural style like this before," Bastila mused. She ran her fingers along the ridge of a hieroglyph, her brows furrowed.

"It looks to me like a cross between Ancient Cona and Traditional Ando," I offered.

Bastila looked at me sharply. I heard Rian chortle and I turned to glare at her. She raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I demanded. "I had to pass some general education classes at the academy in order to fly."

"Architecture?" Rian laughed.

"It was my required art course," I answered hotly. "Besides, it was easy because my dad spent a few years as a contractor."

"Isn't that kind of cheating?" Rian asked.

"What?" I spluttered. "You've never had your old man help you out with things?"

Rian's smile fell. "I don't know, I guess," she muttered. "What about you, Bastila?"

"Relationships with family members are fraught with powerful emotions," Bastila replied mechanically. "Such extremes are to be avoided. Anger and hate are the worst, but even love can lead to folly."

"I take it that's a no?" Rian snorted.

"I was a little girl when I left my family for the Jedi Academy," Bastila said.

"Wait a minute," I said. "You mean to say that the Jedi separate children from their own families?"

"Are you saying that your military academy didn't separate you from yours, Carth?" Bastila snipped.

"I was old enough, not some damn kid," I shot back.

"Let me get this straight," Rian interrupted. "As a Jedi, we're not supposed to love, not feel emotion, yet be able to tell what good is so we can uphold it?"

"You sound confused," Bastila replied.

"So we're just supposed to automatically know what 'good' is," Rian continued. "If it's written as so in the Master Jedi Rulebook, then it must be so? Don't fight because you love and believe in something, but because some green wrinkly chump in a robe tells you it's right?"

"His name is Master Vandar and you will refer to him as such," Bastila hissed. "Emotional entanglements can be dangerous. They can impair rational thought; they can lead to outbursts of uncontrollable emotion. As a Jedi, _you_ must be above such things."

"You don't sound very convinced," Rian said.

"Ladies," I interrupted. I ignored their dagger like glares and continued. "It looks like Rian's well enough to go into the ruins now."

Rian snarled at Bastila and the Jedi woman nodded sharply.

"I believe Carth is correct," Bastila sniffed. "Let's proceed."

As Bastila stalked towards the entrance, Rian made a face behind her face. I felt a migraine coming on and shook my head in resignation. I should have expected as much.


	58. Hateful Arrangements

Canderous:

"Have you lost your mind?" Mission hissed.

I spared a glance at the young Twi'lek as I hoisted the unconscious Shen Matale over my shoulder.

"Did you actually intend to prance through this estate filled with war droids just to get a promise from the girl to meet her lover outside?" I asked.

"Yes," Mission growled. "You make it sound like it'd be difficult."

"Not difficult," I replied. "But time consuming and destructive."

"Do you Mandalorians always think with your blasters?" the child demanded. She grazed a hand over her belt and faded into the scenery.

"So you're determined to find the girl, then?" I asked.

"Just head out with Shen," Mission's voice commanded. "Big Z, follow him and make sure he doesn't do anything else stupid."

"That child needs discipline," I told the Wookiee.

The Wookiee bared its teeth at me. I ignored the gesture.

I hadn't hit the boy as hard as I would have liked, so he would only be out for a few minutes. The Twi'lek child argued enough as it was, I didn't want to hear the shrieks of outrage she'd be capable of if I had broken a bone or caused brain damage. That was the irritating part about siding with Jedi, they had no appreciation for a display of sheer power and what it could do to a warm body.

I shifted the dead weight on my shoulder and decided on a brisk pace. The sooner I was done with this pathetic assignment, the sooner I could go back to having a smoke and upgrading the astromech droid. For the price she paid for it, Rian wasn't getting her money's worth. The droid, T3-M4 was a worthwhile companion, also. We had similar outlooks.

The Wookiee grew irritable with my treatment of the Matale child. He snarled and wrenched the boy from my arms as I watched him blandly. The Wookiee muttered something in his native tongue and took the boy into his arms, the way a mother would rock her babe.

"Are you satisfied?" I asked.

The Wookiee growled.

"I take it you're still upset over what happened in the Ebon Hawk," I said.

A blind ferocity glinted behind the alien's eyes.

"I let my curiosity for your people get the better of me," I explained. "If all of your kind fight as you do, then the Wookiees are worthy warriors."

The Wookiee snorted.

"I'll not go after the child again," I said. "You've proved yourself."

Though, I couldn't understand his words, the Wookiee was speaking in the universal language of petulance and fury.

"I have no quarrel with you, Wookiee," I told him. "If you stop behaving as a child, I might begin to call you by your given name."

From the tone in his voice, I decided that the Wookiee preferred the hateful arrangement that already existed. I walked on calmly.

I was careful not to let my feet make a sound on the dry grass outside. It angered me that I couldn't march proudly, freely through the plains. This job required only the skill of a second rate thug. I wouldn't submit to these kinds of chores for a second time.

A soft groan behind me signaled the Matale child was waking. I turned sharply to the Wookiee.

"Make sure he doesn't scream when he comes to," I said.

The Wookiee's nostrils flared, but I saw his furry paw begin to stroke the boy's head. I sincerely hoped that all Wookiees didn't coddle their children in such a manner.

"Rahasia…" Shen murmured.

"Quiet, boy," I ordered. "You'll see her soon enough."

Shen lurched in the Wookiee's arms, but the alien had the boy pinned securely against his chest.

"Rahasia!" Shen's voice was more insistent.

"I said she'll be joining us shortly," I barked. "Now, quiet."

"I certainly hope you'll be gentler with her than you treated me," Shen mumbled as he stroked the bruise on his jaw line.

"If it were my decision, I wouldn't have wasted my time in such a matter," I said. "But the Twi'lek has a softer heart than I do."

"I still don't understand why you needed to hit me," Shen muttered.

"Can you speak Shyriiwook?" I asked.

"A bit," Shen replied. "Why?"

"Talk to the Wookiee then," I said. "I'm not here to entertain you."

"Is he always like this?" Shen asked the Wookiee.

The alien spared a snort.

"I see your point," Shen agreed. "I can walk on my own if you don't mind."

The Wookiee relented and set the boy down. Shen hobbled slowly after the Wookiee, his eyes warily on my back. I walked on.

Mission was waiting for us outdoors, a smug grin on her face, Rahasia at her side.

"Shen! You're safe!" Without a second glance to Mission, Rahasia ran to her lover.

"Rahasia!" Shen dug his fingers into Rahasia's hair and pulled her forehead to his. "Thank goodness you managed to escape."

"It was all thanks to this kind Twi'lek that we managed to get this far at all." A faint blush crossed Rahasia's ebony cheeks. "I thank you, Mission, for all you have done for us."

Mission bounded over to the group effortlessly. "It was no problem."

"No," Shen insisted as he looked up from he and Rahasia's embrace. "We know you must have gone to great personal risk to get us out of the Sandral estate undetected."

After a reluctant look at the Wookiee, Mission shook her head. "No reward is necessary," she sulked.

"But surely we can—" Shen protested.

"Shen, what happened to your face?" Rahasia cut in.

She ran her fingers over Shen's jaw and he winced. I snorted.

"We had a slight mishap during the rescue." Mission smiled brightly, but her eyes would have rended my flesh if it were possible.

"There was a war droid and I thought I could help," Shen offered. "I ended up getting in the way."

Mission's head tails moved furiously but she remained silent.

Rahasia shook her head as she caressed Shen's cheek. "You should know better than that," she chided.

"There you are, Shen!"

The muscles along Rahasia's neck stiffened at the sound of Ahlan Matale's voice. The older man came marching forward followed by an entourage of war droids.

"Father!" Shen reached for Rahasia's arm and pulled her behind him.

"Mr. Matale!" Panic was setting into Rahasia.

"Rahasia!"

Rahasia spun around and pressed her back against Shen's as Nurik Sandral burst out of the estate. Several war droids loomed over his shoulder to mimic Matale. A protocol droid must have tipped him off.

"Father!" The girl sounded on the brink of tears.

"Mr. Sandral!" Shen squeezed Rahasia's hand.

The old men were too engrossed in each other to notice.

"Nurik!" Matale bellowed.

"Ahlan!" Sandral sneered.

I fingered the settings of my blaster.

"I knew this was all your doing!" Matale accused. "I knew you had captured my son!"

Their children huddled closer to each other for support. Mission was sharing panicked looks with the Wookiee.

"You had taken my Cassus from me long before that!" Sandral declared. "You started it!"

"I don't want to hear any of your excuses!" Matale cut his arm through the air melodramatically. "Now, I will get revenge for your transgression!"

The children were rigid with fear. The Wookiee had transformed into a blubbering matriarch, he shot the hapless couple heart wrenching glances between baring his fangs at their fathers'. Mission's face was slowly turning purple. She looked ready to slug Matale and Sandral both. I wouldn't be surprised if she proved capable of incapacitating both of the bickering idiots.

"You two just need to calm down," Mission growled.

Wide eyed, Shen nodded his head furiously. "Please listen to her, Father!"

"Why should I listen to some two-bit alien slave girl?" Matale demanded. "All you want is to remain with that Sandral harlot."

"My daughter is not a harlot, Matale dog!" Sandral snarled.

I chuckled. The dueling fools had finally worn away at Mission's patience. She stalked towards Ahlan Matale, her hands balled into fists. I waited for the girl to slug him.

Instead, her hands flourished a blaster each and pumped a blast into every one of Matale's droids' sensor circuits in rapid succession. Nurik Sandral began to laugh triumphantly until Mission turned her guns on his droids. I smiled and the Wookiee gave a disparaging moan.

"I've got everything under control, Zaalbar," Mission insisted. "Now, let's try to sort this out together, shall we? Or do I have to sic the Wookiee on you?"

The Wookiee barked out what sounded like a protest. Mission scowled.

"Don't give me none of that, Big Z!"

Sandral swallowed hard as he glanced at the smoke rising from his worthless droid. "We are trying to be reasonable here, of course," he said. "We _are_ sensible people after all. But our children are so stubborn."

Matale nodded. "If Shen would just understand that he has to do what I want, this would all be solved easily."

Mission rolled her eyes. "Shen's capable of making decisions on his own. Aren't you, Shen?"

The boy cleared his throat before nodding. "Yes."

"But he's my son," Matale protested. He turned his eyes towards the ground and muttered, "I don't want to lose him."

"And I won't let my daughter go with him!" Sandral declared.

Mission groaned and tugged on her lekku. "I've been on my own since I was twelve. Children grow up. They leave."

"Rahasia," Sandral pleaded.

"Father," the girl murmured. She turned to her lover's arm instead of returning to her father. Shen drew Rahasia's head to his chest protectively.

Sandral exhaled a ragged sigh and began to shut down his malfunctioning droids. "I don't know why we fight like this. We got along in the beginning, didn't we, Ahlan?"

The Wookiee was still apprehensive, but Mission seemed to be relaxing. I pulled out my cigarra case.

"I don't know how you can think of that when we have our children trying to go away together," Matale grumbled. Pride kept him from deactivating his own sizzling droids.

"Well, it wouldn't be so bad would it?" Sandral asked. "Shen seems to genuinely care for my Rahasia."

"So they stay together," Mission decided.

I turned away from the group and walked away. Mission had things under control, so I was taking up space. Rian and the other two would still be at the ruins given her intoxication coupled with the pilot's barrage of questions and the Jedi's tight-lipped answers. Aboard the Ebon Hawk it would be dark and quiet, something I hadn't enjoyed in a long time.


	59. Finding Nemo

Bastila:

Rian was in no condition to be moving around. The only reason she hadn't crumpled into a nauseated ball was because she was relying on my life force through our bond. It was an unusual sensation and I wasn't exactly fond of it.

Yet, I couldn't find it in my heart to reprimand her. Master Vrook had made a point to visit me privately away from the ears of the other masters' nights ago. A troubling man, his words were hasty and to the point.

"She is quick to laugh, quick to anger and above all foolhardy," Master Vrook had said. "Everything that a Jedi is not. But she is sincerely a good child with well meant intentions. If you put your mind to it, you can protect her, but if you become confident for a moment, she will destroy you."

It wasn't the most pleasant bit of information that I've ever received. After Master Vrook had left to skulk in the shadows again, I was left shivering.

Perhaps he had a point. Rian wasn't so horrible, if I could ignore every word that passed her lips. The constant turbulent emotions were still unsettling, but the soul beneath it all wasn't nearly as bad as the one Rian sought to portray. I could only wish that the woman decided to take a vow of silence.

She was quiet at the moment. Rian appeared to be inspecting the cobwebs on the wall, but our bond told me she was trying to will away her hang over. Carth was a few steps behind her, like always, watching warily. Master Vrook wanted me to protect her. How could I protect her if I couldn't even get close to her?

I had to reach out to her. I smiled. Rian continued her thorough inspection of the wall, she hadn't even noticed. I swallowed the sigh that tried to escape; I had to be made of stronger stuff than that.

The steps I took towards Carth were slow and my hard soled boots assured that my movement was audible. Carth's thick neck muscles tensed as he heard me approach. Was I really monstrous enough to warrant such a greeting?

"We could always come back later when Rian is feeling better," I suggested quietly.

"Are you scared?" Rian finally turned her face around. Her eyes looked black in the dim light as she glared at me.

"No," I forced the words to my tongue. "I'm not."

'Scared' couldn't possibly describe the utter terror that coursed through me whenever I was in the woman's presence. Master Vrook warned me against confidence; I sorely wished he had some advice in regards to fear.

"I'm concerned about you," I said. "I don't want you to get hurt because you insist on being here when you're not well."

"I'm fine," she insisted.

"Carth, talk some sense into her," I pleaded. "Please."

"No way." Carth threw up his hands. "I've learned my lesson. I'm not picking sides. I'm staying out of this. You two will eat me alive regardless of what I say."

"I'm fine, I'm going in," Rian growled. "If you want to stay out here until your knees stop quaking, be my guest, but I won't be keeping you company."

She pushed herself off from the wall and staggered through the entrance way. I shot Carth a frantic look, but he just shrugged. Rian's scream, followed by a large crash sent Carth running after her. I trotted after him, my hand on my lightsaber.

Rian was sprawled out on the stone ground, a disgruntled look on her face. Her legs were twisted around a heap of cloth and a travel sack.

"What's that doing in the middle of the floor?" Carth chuckled as he went to retrieve Rian.

My throat felt like it was closing in on itself, but I pushed myself forward. It was exactly what I feared. The deep blue material was what was left of a battered Jedi robe, the glint of a lightsaber hilt shone beneath Rian's left ankle. A Jedi had become one with the Force and Rian had tripped over his remains.

"Is there any identification in the travel sack?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Carth asked as he hoisted Rian to her feet.

"A Jedi died there, I just want to know who it was," I said.

"There's no body here," Rian grumbled.

"When Jedi die, they become one with the Force so there is no body," I hastily explained. "There's his robe, his lightsaber and his travel sack. I just want to know if there is any identification in his sack."

"You mean Jedi robes come in all colors?" Rian asked.

"What?" I spluttered.

"I get this dingy looking brown, but that Jedi got a nice blue," Rian said. "Why did I get gypped?"

"That's all you can think about?" I demanded. "Someone died here."

"So, people die all the time," she replied. "There's nothing we can do about it. But I can get a new robe. Should I ask one of the Masters? You've got a pretty pink one too. Would they have red?"

"I hate to interrupt," Carth cut in. "But we're not alone."

My eyes followed his finger to the center of the room. An enormous droid burbled and churned. Its ancient spider-like limbs creaked as it turned its sensor light at us. I readied my lightsaber, if that droid was capable of killing a fellow Jedi I couldn't let my guard down.

The red sensor light focused on Rian and the droid paused. Rian raised an eyebrow, but she made no move for her weapon. How that woman managed to live as long as she had was beyond me.

The droid gurgled. It was a strange language of fricatives and alliteration, but I couldn't decipher a single thing the droid said. My stomach tied itself into a knot at that realization, as an apprentice in the academy one of the first things the Jedi teach is a vast array of common languages. My tongue wasn't the best for handling Rodese, but my ears understood perfectly well.

Fortunately, Rian didn't nod along with the droid. Instead, she scratched the back of her head.

"I don't understand you," she told the droid.

The droid stopped speaking abruptly. The sound of whirring gears echoed in the relatively empty tomb. I placed my lightsaber back in my belt and knelt down by the deceased Jedi's travel pack. Plain and indistinguishable, the only way that I could figure out the name of the dead Jedi would be to search through the pack. I gingerly opened it. Along with the expected rations and medkit, a holocron was safely tucked away in a pocket.

The flick of a finger illuminated two forms. A Twi'lek woman and an adolescent Cathar shadowing her nervously. The Twi'lek glanced over her shoulder at the Cathar and chuckled.

"Come now, Juhani," the Twi'lek amicably scolded. "Say hello to Nemo."

Juhani, who couldn't have been more than twelve when the holocron was recorded glanced up from her feet and stared out wide eyed.

"Hello," she slurred in awkward Basic.

"We'll be leaving for Dantooine in two days, Nemo," the Twi'lek continued. "I expect a cup of tea and to meet this new student of yours."

The image fluttered out and I shook my head. Of all the Jedi the council could have chose to send here, they had to decide on such a good-natured, kind old man like Nemo. The decision was above me, but I could still be saddened by the results.

Rian looked bored as she shook her head at the droid. "Nope. I still don't understand you."

"I think the droid is trying to communicate with us by cycling through a variety of languages," I offered. "Each time it spoke it was using a very different alien dialect. The droid can probably understand us. The problem is it may not have been programmed with the phonemes of a language we can understand."

Rian met my assistance with an ugly expression. Judging from how cranky she was, I suspected she was in dire need of a nap.

" /I can reproduce any of the languages spoken by the slaves of the builders,/ " the droid stated.

"Hey!" Rian exclaimed. "I understood that!"

"Well, I didn't," Carth said. "It sounds like garbled Selkath."

"That's because it's an archaic variant of the Selkath dialect spoken on Manaan," I replied. "But why would a droid on Dantooine be programmed to speak ancient Selkath?"

" /Communication was vital to ensure that the slaves constructed this temple according to the wishes of the Builders,/ " the droid explained. " /But you are not of the slave species. Neither are you of the Builders'. You are like the one who came before. /"

"It must be referring to Revan," I realized. "The Dark Lord and Malak likely encountered the droid when they explored the ruins."

"Would someone mind translating for me?" Carth demanded. Lines creased his face in the characteristic suspicion of his that made Rian so weary. I think I was beginning to share her sentiments.

"You can translate for yourself," Rian said.

Carth raised an eyebrow and she scowled.

"I'm serious," Rian insisted. "Ancient Selkath is just a less fancy version of Selkath. You can speak Selkath can't you?"

"A little," Carth grudgingly admitted.

"Then you can speak ancient Selkath no problem," Rian decided. "It's lazier, with more assumption involved. If I'm talking to you for instance, I wouldn't say 'you' or 'Carth' because it's a given fact that I'm talking to you, so the 'you' would be viewed as an unnecessary word."

"I think I understand." Carth forced an awkward smile.

"So if I wanted to tell you that you stunk like a bantha," Rian grinned. "I wouldn't say, 'you stink like a bantha,' I'd say, 'stink like bantha'."

"Real cute," Carth replied dryly.

"See?" Rian laughed. "You're getting the hang of it already."

A frown began to form on my lips and I willed it away. How was it that they were able to put each other at ease in a dreary place like this? It was so frustrating that every time I tried to put something to right between us I somehow managed to make it worse. The masters told me it would get better with time, but I was beginning to doubt it. Everyone else seemed content with their already formed relationships aboard the Ebon Hawk. The droid liked me. At least, I thought he did. If he didn't, I could always reprogram him.

"Perhaps we should continue our exploration of the ruins," I suggested.

Rian pretended to ignore me and turned to the droid.

"Are you some type of guardian?" she asked it.

"/ I am the Overseer, /" the droid answered. " /The Builders programmed me to enforce discipline among the slaves while the monument to the power of the Star Forge was constructed. At project completion all slaves were executed. I was reprogrammed to serve should a Builder return in search of knowledge of the Star Forge./ "

"All I caught was something about a Star Forge," Carth began, but was immediately silenced by Rian's raised hand.

"How long have you been here?" Rian asked.

" My chronological circuits have marked over ten full revolutions of this systems outermost planet around the sun since the Builders left. /"

I did the math in my head and my jaw fell open.

"Ten revolutions would take more that 20,000 years," I murmured. "If this is true then this droid is nearly 5,000 years older than the Republic itself. There must be some mistake."

The droid flickered its red light at me.

" /There is no mistake,/ " it said. " /The Builders constructed my chronological circuitry using the technology of the Star Forge itself. My calculations are infallible./ "

Rian chuckled and pointed at the rapidly flitting light. "I think the droid's mocking you," she said.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you influenced it somehow," I muttered.

The guffaw that erupted from Rian sounded unnatural in the empty space of the ruins. "That droid has nothing on any rust bucket I'd program," she managed between giggles.

"The droid seems to respond better to you," I noted. "Why don't you try asking it something else?"

Rian nodded and cleared her throat. "Droid, is there any way I could get Bastila to lighten up?"

I blushed furiously.

" /This Bastila is unknown to me,/ " the droid stated matter-of-factly. "/ It has nothing of relevance to the glory that is the Star Forge./ "

"Don't let her get to you," Carth whispered.

"I'm fine," I insisted. "Really." My hands felt cold as I pressed them against my cheeks.

"For all I know she might be trying to make friends with you," he suggested.

"And perhaps a rancor is just lonely as well," I replied. "But we stay away from them regardless."

"Alright, serious question now," Rian announced. "Who are these Builders you keep talking about?"

" /The Builders are the great masters of the galaxy, the conquerors of all worlds, the rulers of the infinite empire and creators of the Star Forge,/ " the droid said.

"These Builders must have been an extinct people," I deduced. "Though it is strange there is no record of their existence. Even the archives at the Jedi Academy make no mention of them.

"In the years before the Republic the Hutts were a dominant force in the galaxy, but they never constructed an empire. In fact, I know of no species that would fit with this information."

"I can't believe that this has been sitting here right next to a Jedi enclave and they don't have any information about it in their archives," Rian snorted.

"It actually makes me relieved," Carth admitted. "It's good to know that the Jedi aren't as infallible as they pretend to be."

I swallowed my pride. "It's one thing for fools who aren't connected to the Order to scoff at it, but please, Rian, as a Jedi, treat it with some respect."

Rian appeared startled. She gave me a curious look but said nothing. Instead, she turned back to the droid.

"Have you seen a Builder recently?" she asked.

" /I have been here ever since the completion of this monument, /" the droid answered. "/ In all this time no Builder has returned to seek information on the Star Forge. /"

" What is the Star Forge? " Rian asked.

"/ The Star Forge is the glory of the Builders, the apex of their infinite empire, /" the droid gurgled enthusiastically. "/ It is a machine of invincible might, a tool of unstoppable conquest. /"

"You don't really know what it is, do you?" Rian replied blandly.

"/ The Star Forge is the glory of the Builders, the apex of their infinite empire, /" the droid repeated. "/It is a machine of invincible might, a tool of unstoppable conquest. /"

"The droid is obviously not programmed with the knowledge we seek." I sighed. "The Star Forge sounds like some type of weapon, perhaps, though in fact, it could be anything."

"Could it have been a factory or weapon's plant?" Rian suggested.

I made a mental note to confer with the masters later. "Maybe, that might explain how the Sith were able to amass a fleet so quickly," I replied. "But I suspect the Star Forge is more powerful than a mere factory. Maybe the droid has more information we can use?"

"Where can we find the Star Forge?" Rian asked.

"/ Now that the slaves are gone, my purpose is to aid those who seek knowledge of the Star Forge,/ " the droid acknowledged. "/ If they are worthy. The ones who came before you, the ones like you, not Builders but not slaves, sought knowledge of the Star Forge and its origins. They proved themselves to be worthy. They discovered the secrets of the Star Forge locked beyond the sealed door behind me. But there was another who failed to unlock the secrets and paid the ultimate price. /"

"The droid must be talking about poor Nemo," I murmured. "The council sent him here to investigate and it cost him his life."

I heard the snap hiss of a lightsaber and nervously fingered my own. Ignited lightsaber in her hand, Rian had a malicious grin.

"How can I prove myself worthy?"


	60. Star Map

Rian:

With a squeak, I reflected the war droid's blast back at it with my lightsaber. So I wasn't dead, I still felt like I wanted to die. Every sudden movement I made caused the contents of my stomach to slosh around erratically. Whoever said that blue ale was mild must not have drunk a case by their lonesome.

Bastila enveloped the droid in a whirlwind of Force energy and slashed at it with her double sided lightsaber while Carth riddled it with blaster holes. And Bastila had made it sound so difficult. I snorted as I wiped cold sweat from my brow.

"How are you feeling?" Bastila made a tentative reach for my forehead with her hand.

I swiped her palm away. "I'm fine," I insisted.

The look of shock on her face was quickly replaced with a tight-lipped rage. If what the masters said about our bond was true, I would always be able to vaguely sense her immediate emotions. I think being able to sense those things about Bastila had made me even more irate to her, if that was possible.

_The day those bottled tight emotions explode, she will be very useful._

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered.

"What are you grumbling about?" Carth asked.

I froze. Relief flooded through me when I realized that it was concern in his eyes and not more suspicion.

It was beginning to seem like it was always coming down to either telling the truth or lying through my teeth with Carth. I think I had actually gone with truth every time. I chuckled inwardly, not that he believed the truth any more than he would if I told him that in a past life I had been a Wookiee call girl that tap-danced for Exar Kun.

I sighed. "I don't know."

Carth peered nervously over his shoulder at Bastila before he turned back to me. "I think Bastila might have been right about you needing more time," he spoke quietly.

"There is no 'think' in the matter, Onasi," I mumbled. "I feel like crap."

"Then why didn't you admit to it in the first place?"

So Bastila hadn't been as oblivious to our conversation as I had hoped. There she was with her damn nose in the air like I was sullying her precious little ruins. I groaned and kneaded my temples. Bastila had better be careful, I thought, if she comes too close to me I might puke on her pretty little Jedi boots.

"Bastila, can you do me a favor and explore the rest of this room while I tend to this?" Carth asked.

Bastila sniffed loudly, but I heard her walk away.

"Blue ale could not have done this," Carth decided. "I saw what you were like with too many Antakarian Fire Dancers in you on Taris. You didn't take anything else while you were in the med bay, did you?"

"I've been having nightmares lately."

"So what did you take?"

"Who said I took anything?"

"Rian—"

"I didn't take anything," I hissed. "Ever since we rescued Bastila things have just gotten worse."

"Worse?" Carth asked. "From what?"

I chuckled. "You think that if I understood or could control my nightmares I'd drink as much as I do?"

Carth grinned. "Actually, yeah, I do. You just have an excuse now."

"Just forget I said anything," I grumbled.

Funny, I felt my eyes drop to my feet.

"Hey, look at me."

Carth gripped my chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger. I forced myself to look him in the eye. I had never really paid much attention to them before, probably because if I did, they'd scare the hell out of me. Deep pools of shadow, what made him wear hurt so easily?

"If something's bothering you, talk to me," he urged. "Or talk to someone, hell, talk to the droid."

"Not a chance, pal," I snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if that droid started broadcasting all my dirty little secrets over the holo-net. There's something snarky about that tin can."

"Fine. Don't talk to the droid." Carth laughed, but turned serious again. "But I mean it. It's not good to keep things bottled up inside."

"Sounds like pretty reasonable advice," I said slowly. "So why don't you follow it?"

"Don't start this again," Carth groaned. "Look, I've dealt with my demons, but I did it the hard way. You should learn from my mistakes."

"But if you don't tell me about them, then I can't." I stuck my tongue out.

"Don't push your luck, sister."

There. He was smiling again. He might have actually been attractive if he didn't constantly look as though the weight of the galaxy was hoisted on his nicely toned shoulders. I definitely needed another drink. I think I still had some gin in my water canteen.

The resonant sound that Bastila's boots produced as she walked towards us rattled in my brain. Maybe a gin kolto cocktail would be better. Bastila stopped abruptly a yard or so away from us and cleared her throat.

"I found something," she said.

"Is it something for my headache?" I muttered.

"Do either of you have a datapad?" Bastila asked.

"You can use mine," Carth offered. "What do you need it for?"

"The war droids were guarding a port of some sort," Bastila explained. "It appears to be the size of a datapad. There's probably information there."

Information, my decaying liver! It was a damn test, in an alien language no less.

Bastila's expression, though still haughty, had drooped at this realization. "Do you understand any of this?" she asked.

"Why would I?" I crossed my arms as I peered over the console.

The question was scrawled across the top and fortunately it was multiple choice. All the possible answers were in a smaller font beneath the header. So we could get lucky and guess.

_Or you could pick the wrong answer and die._

Damn singsong voice in the back of my head. I wished I could identify it. I sighed. The only thing I could do was pick one randomly.

"You look troubled," Bastila noted.

"There are four different choices." I shook my head. "The only thing that I'm certain of is that if you pick the wrong answer, you're not going to live to realize it."

"Perhaps that's what happened to Nemo," Bastila mused. "Do you think that we could discover which answer he selected to help narrow it down?"

"How do we do that?" I asked.

Bastila frowned. "I don't know."

"What if I just pick one?" Carth suggested. "I might get lucky and if not, well, I'm not that important."

"Don't be stupid," I snapped.

"That is the most illogical thing I've ever heard, Carth Onasi," Bastila chided. "There are only three of us. There are four potential answers. Hypothetically, if we all chose, one after the other, we could all still pick wrong answers and die."

"So you think we should just stand around and talk about it?" Carth demanded. "That's not going to accomplish anything."

"And neither is throwing your life away foolishly," Bastila hissed.

"How hard could it be?" Carth rationalized as he brought his finger down towards the first answer.

_Wrong._

"Carth, don't!" Without thinking, I smashed my own finger down on the answer second from the bottom.

Frozen, looking at Carth's aghast face, the only thing I was aware of was Bastila's rising blood pressure.

The grinding sound of stone against stone sounded in the distance as the second door slid open.

_Good job._

"You did it." Bastila nodded, a practiced attempt to hide her rattled nerves.

I unscrewed the lid to my canteen and took a deep slug. I grimaced. Somebody had replaced my gin with water. Bastila shot me a knowing smile. Damn her.

"We should probably go see what's in the next room," I muttered.

"Yes," Bastila said. "Let's."

The Jedi turned on her heels and hurried towards the room on the other side of the ruins. I went to follow, but Carth caught my arm.

"How did you know which one was the right answer?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I didn't. But I figured your choice had to be wrong."

"I'm going to forgive you that only because you saved my life," Carth grumbled. "Let's go see what Bastila's found."

"What Bastila's found only because I put my neck on the line," I interjected.

"Like an idiot, I might add," Carth countered.

"Only to save your idiot neck."

"Point taken."

Bastila failed to greet us at the unexplored tomb's door. I assumed she was still safe because I hadn't heard any girly shrieks of Jedi rhetoric. A light coming from the center of the room cast the room in blue-violet shadows. Not a light, a holographic globe.

Bastila had waited for us, silently awestricken. I cleared my throat and she closed her mouth.

"What is this?" Carth asked.

"This must be what Revan and Malak found when they entered this temple," Bastila murmured. "This must be where their journey down the Dark Side began."

"I don't get it." I stretched my underused muscles. "Is this supposed to be the Star Forge?"

"This is a map," Bastila realized. "Some sort of intergalactic navigational chart. Revan and Malak must have used this to lead them to the Star Forge. We could use this map to follow their path and find the Star Forge ourselves. But we must be wary; they may have laid traps or concealed what they found."

"So we still don't know what the Star Forge is, huh?" I asked.

"No, but Revan and Malak were very interested in finding it," Bastila replied. "It must be a tool of some type, or maybe a weapon. Perhaps the council can tell us more. But I think this map might be the key to finding the Star Forge, whatever it is."

Bastila circled the map closely and pointed at a dot in the grid.

"See this world here? This looks like Korriban, a Sith world." Her finger trailed to the next visible planet. "And if that's Korriban, then this is Kashyyyk… and that, Tatooine. And here's Manaan. But there are pieces missing. Incomplete hyperspace coordinates, corrupted data and there doesn't seem to be anything indicating where the Star Forge itself might be."

"So maybe the worlds we're looking at would have more clues." I shrugged.

"I was thinking that too," Bastila replied. "This map can't take us to the Star Forge, but I know that Revan and Malak visited Korriban at least once. Perhaps they discovered something more there. They may have found something on each of the other worlds that completed this map. Maybe if we find all the pieces they will lead us to the Star Forge… And some way to destroy it."

"That sounds like quite the supposition." Carth crossed his arms. "What if you're wrong?"

Bastila placed a hand on her hip. "What if I'm right?" she asked.

Carth glowered, but backed down.

"We can't ignore this," Bastila continued grimly. "Finding the Star Forge might very well be the key to defeating the Sith. We must inform the council of what we have discovered. They must decide our next course of action, though I suspect our task has only just begun."

"Can it begin after I get a quick nap back at the Ebon Hawk?" I asked.

Carth chuckled. Bastila scowled.


	61. Nightmares

Carth:

I should have known that as soon as we were done with the ruins Rian and Bastila would be whisked away by the Jedi Council. I should have known that the Jedi Masters wouldn't give a nosy Republic pilot a warm reception. I should have known that Bastila would have been tight-lipped and icy. But Rian? That was too much.

A sigh escaped me as I slouched into my bunk in the crew quarters that Bastila designated as male. As soon as we finally made it back to the Ebon Hawk, Rian locked herself in the female crew quarters to think. I could only imagine what that meant. At least she had taken the time to scrub the vomit out of her hair.

Forn Dodonna wanted an update on the Jedi's activities in approximately two standard minutes. I flipped my datapad open and connected to the holo-net. The correct coordinates typed in and a moment later Admiral Dodonna was looking at me flatly.

"Report," she commanded. "And for goodness sake, speak plainly."

I nodded. "The Jedi seem to think they know how Malak has become so powerful," I said.

"I assume it's more than exercise and vitamins," Dodonna replied.

I swallowed hard. It wasn't difficult to see how that woman had become an admiral. She had a smile like a firaxa.

"There are these ruins on Dantooine that the Jedi had assumed to be simply ancient tombs and burial grounds," I explained. "But we explored them after discovering that Revan and Malak had visited them."

"Onasi," Dodonna cut in irritably. "In half an hour I need to smile pretty and kiss the Republic Senate's ass, so please get to the point."

"Of course." I nodded furiously. "The Jedi think that Malak has access to something called the Star Forge."

"What's the Star Forge?"

I sighed. "They don't know. They're going to send Bastila Shan and Rian Vega out to look for it."

"I'm aware of who Bastila Shan is, but who's Rian Vega?" Dodonna asked. "Shan's Master?"

"No," I answered. "She's a former smuggler and was employed by the Jedi for the mission aboard the Endar Spire. When we got to Dantooine, the Masters decided to train her as a Jedi for whatever reason."

Admiral Dodonna's eyes narrowed for a moment as she thought.

"Peculiar as hell," she muttered before she looked up at me. "Onasi, I want you to send me as much information as you have on Rian Vega. I'll see if anyone on my end can dig anything up. I want to know what we have on our hands."

"Understood." I nodded.

"Good," Dodonna replied before disconnecting.

I saluted to the blank screen and began to input everything I knew into my datapad. Rian Vega, age 26. Former smuggler, current Jedi. Home world: Deralia. Nice ass. I chuckled as I deleted the last sentence. I doubted Admiral Dodonna would have found it as amusing as I had.

As I sent the information to Dodonna, T3-M4 rolled into the small room. The droid bleated irritably and I laughed.

"She really did that?" I asked.

T3 gave a mournful whistle.

"Well, you've got to admit, you do look like a footstool," I replied.

The droid gurgled rudely.

"Come a little closer and say that so I can kick you," I dared.

T3-M4 continued to bleep obscenities as it scurried out of the crew quarters. He actually thought I'd kick him. Weird.

The rust bucket did have a good point. I figured I should check on Rian. She had been holed up in the crew quarters for too long and if what T3-M4 said was any indication of her activities, I'd rather put a stop to them than wait for Bastila to do so.

As I left the cramped quarters, I noted that the little astromech hadn't made it very far. Pinned beneath Canderous Ordo's firm boot, T3-M4 gibbered frantically. The Mandalorian shot me a bored expression.

"Keep walking, Onasi," Canderous said.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"It doesn't concern you," Canderous replied.

"I won't let you terrorize any member of this crew, droid included," I decided.

The Mandalorian barked out a laugh. "Terrorize?" he chuckled. "This damn obstinate droid has a jammed servo that needs to be repaired. It's painless, but he's being a baby about it."

Canderous accentuated the word "baby" by hefting more weight on top of the droid. T3-M4 tooted at me desperately.

"You're right," I agreed. "It doesn't concern me."

"You might want to get going, Onasi," Canderous advised. "It's going to get ugly."

I turned to T3. "Get over yourself."

The droid spared me an acidic gurgle.

I continued on my original path and ended up outside the women's crew quarters. I cleared my throat loudly before knocking on the door.

"Nobody's in here," Rian called from in the room.

"Are you going to let me in, or am I going to have to get Mission to override the lock?" I asked.

The door slid open and Rian headed back to the bed she had claimed.

"How are you doing?" I asked, shutting the door behind me.

"Alright," she grumbled, as she turned her attention back to the datapad opened on her bed. "I'm sure I'll get enough time to sleep it off in hyperdrive."

"Hyperdrive? Where are we going?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Rian chuckled as she motioned towards the screen of her datapad.

"What do you need help figuring out?" I sat down next to her and peered over her shoulder.

The corroded Star Map was displayed in Rian's datapad. Behind the Star Map's sparse information she had input a handful of trade routes. I recognized the Hydian Way first because Telos was part of that particular route.

"We've got to go to these planets looking for more Star Maps, right?" Rian smothered her words with the lip of a glass that smelled of fruit and brandy. "I'm just not sure which one to visit first."

"Why not just go in order?" I suggested. "From Dantooine they practically form a straight line. Korriban, then Kashyyyk, Manaan and Tatooine. It would save a lot of travel time."

Rian raised an eyebrow. "You really want to go to Korriban first?"

"Why not?" I took the glass from her hands and set it on the floor. "We'll have to go there eventually, won't we?"

"I was hoping to save that dust bowl for last," Rian admitted. "Korriban doesn't exactly strike me as a fun place to be."

"And Tatooine or Manaan do?" I laughed. "Those damned idiot ancients, they should have constructed their artifacts on Coruscant, huh?"

"Or Corellia." Rian nodded. "But seriously now, Korriban's home of a huge Sith academy."

"What about Manaan, then?"

"They have an interesting legal system there, don't they?" she asked.

"And?"

"Do you honestly think that this motley crew has the ability at present time to not get thrown into a Selkath prison?" Rian grinned.

"Point taken." I nodded. "So we've narrowed it down to either Kashyyyk or Tatooine."

"Yeah, they both sound pretty harmless," Rian agreed.

"So should we flip some credits over it?" I teased.

"Well…" Rian's smile widened. "Tatooine has 23 hour days, but Kashyyyk has 26 hour days. That's an entire hour more to sleep than what we get here on Dantooine."

"So Kashyyyk it is, then." I laughed. "What has Bastila had to say on the matter?"

"She wants to do Tatooine first," Rian said. "Then Manaan, then Kashyyyk, then Korriban. That way, once we're finished, we can run right back to Dantooine and tell the Masters everything."

"It does make some sense," I said.

Rian grimaced. "So does saving Manaan and Korriban for last."

"Well, you could go Tatooine, then Kashyyyk and still save those two for last," I suggested.

"But then that creates a big zigzag," Rian pointed out. "If we do Kashyyyk first, then we've got a sort of circle."

"You've got it all figured out then," I replied.

"Besides, Zaalbar hasn't been to his home planet in years." Rian grinned. "It might be a nice surprise for him. I'm sure he's got some Wookiee ladies that he's been dying to see."

I laughed. "That was definitely not a mental image that I needed."

Rian shrugged and shut the datapad. She reached for her glass and I slapped her hand away.

"Are you looking for a fight, pal?" She raised an eyebrow.

"What are your nightmares about?" I asked.

"They're nothing," Rian insisted. She reached for the glass again.

I didn't stop her. "I think they are," I said.

She didn't reply. Instead, Rian took a heavy slug of her drink.

"Come on," I urged. "Everyone has nightmares. I do too, sometimes. They can't be that bad."

Rian continued to ignore me and concentrated on her brandy.

"What could your nightmares be about?" I wondered aloud. "Canderous Ordo as a cross dresser?"

"Yeah, you're right." Rian smiled. "The worst part is that he has boobs that are bigger than mine."

"But that can't be all, can it?" I continued. "Maybe Mission and T3-M4 having a lovechild?"

"Those robotic head-tails are terrifying," she lamented.

"Or is it worse?" I grinned. "Am I in them?"

Rian began to choke on her drink.

"I am in them, aren't I?"

She finished off her drink. "Not all of them. Not all of the time."

"Rian, I'll never do anything to hurt you," I said. "You've got to believe that."

She laughed lightly as she patted me on the cheek. "You honestly believe that you're the monster in my nightmares?"

"What am I doing in them, then?" I asked.

"You're not in all of them," Rian said. "The worse ones have Revan in them. Bastila has them too. She claims they're visions."

"Those nightmares were the root of all this Star Forge nonsense, huh?" I realized.

Rian nodded.

"But what about the nightmares with me?"

"They're much nicer." Rian giggled. "We're just separated and you're screaming for me. It's funny because I feel different, like I'm not really me. Taller. Blonder. There's always something that I say too…"

"You never did cry for me, did you darling?" we murmured in unison.

"How did you—?"

"That isn't your nightmare." I replied.


	62. Angry Women

Rian:

"Oh no, that isn't your nightmare, but I'm not going to tell you what it's about," I muttered. "Because I'm a jerk. King of all jerky jerks."

I had abandoned the glass of brandy since, well, since I found out that it was so much easier to drink it straight from the bottle. The glass was currently rolling towards Bastila's bunk.

I heard the door open and jerked my head up from my pillow.

"If that's Mission, you're not the legal drinking age," I bellowed. "Unless of course, Twi'lek years are different than humans. In that case, I don't care."

"I had feared that this is what you were up to." Bastila sighed. "May I ask why?"

"You may," I said, letting my head drop back onto the pillow. "But it doesn't mean I'll tell you."

"Rian, I need to talk to you," Bastila said. "Before we leave for Tatooine."

"Kashyyyk," I corrected. "We're going to Kashyyyk first."

"Regardless of planet, I need to talk to you." Bastila edged into the room. "May I sit?"

"As long as it's not on my stomach, I don't care," I replied. "What do we need to talk about?"

"A few things, actually." Bastila sat stiffly on the bunk opposite me. Her fingers began to knot around her braids nervously. "First, I'm worried about you."

"Nope." I shook my head. "I won't have this discussion. What I do on my spare time doesn't concern you."

I tipped the bottle to my lips to emphasize the fact.

"Yes it does," she insisted. "For a couple reasons."

"Oh?" I pushed myself upright on the cot. "And what are they?"

"Foremost the bond we share—"

"I don't believe in this 'bond' regardless of what the Jedi Council said," I interrupted.

"Deny it if you will, but there is a connection between us," Bastila insisted. "I understand why you would find this disturbing. I have my own reservations about it, to be honest."

She shifted in her seat and took a deep breath.

"I saw your service records when you were transferred aboard the Endar Spire, but nothing beyond that. I know very little about you. I'd like to ask you some questions, given our relationship."

"Why the hell not?" I giggled.

"Don't worry, these are simple questions," Bastila reassured. "Nothing too intrusive. First what kind of background do you have?"

"I was a smuggler," I replied. "I figured you were aware of that, what with threatening to sic Echani mercs on me and all."

"Good." She nodded. "On which planet were you born?"

"Deralia. Why?"

"Excellent," Bastila murmured. "Your current age is?"

I groaned. "3,012. Healthy living, you know? Bastila, you already know this. It was on my service record."

"I see you intend to be childish about this," Bastila snipped. "Why is it so difficult to have simple discussions with you? This bond of ours is important."

"This bond talk is bantha crap," I moaned. "Just stop it."

"I have never been more serious than when I talk about our bond," Bastila replied. "Do you think I like being bonded to you? Your being drunk affects me too."

"I see what this is about," I growled. "You just can't stand sensing me drunk. Well, babe, if you think that's bad you should feel what it's like when I'm sober."

"Do you honestly think that I lack the power and discipline to cut you off from myself if I need to?" Bastila snapped. There, the flames behind her eyes were erupting. "The fact of the matter is I can cut you off and leave you a worthless wreck or continue to let you leech off of my life force and leave us both slightly incapacitated. Do you think either solution is wise?"

"I don't care."

"Oh, you don't, do you?" Bastila sniffed.

All I remembered was seeing her nose twitch in agitation. I barely had time to thrust my head over the side of the bunk before I was vomiting. Aside from the edge of the bunk where my hands were feverishly latched onto, the room was spinning wildly.

After I began dry-heaving, my original strength was slowly filtered back. I used the sleeve of my Jedi robe to wipe my mouth and I rolled onto my back.

Bastila's face had softened. "Now, do you understand the danger of the situation you've put us in?" she asked.

I snorted and crossed my arms.

"You talk to Carth, but refuse to talk to me," Bastila said. "Why? You and I share the same nightmares. Shouldn't it be easier to discuss things with me?"

"I don't discuss things with Carth," I mumbled.

"Rian—"

"No," I interrupted. "I just don't feel comfortable talking about things, especially to someone who'll make me throw up on a whim."

I caught the brief expression of a kicked gizka before she frosted over again.

"I see," Bastila said. "At any rate, there a few matters we still need to discuss."

"Can it wait?"

"No," Bastila replied. "I've talked to the Masters a great deal about this and we're afraid that the others like Zaalbar or Carth may compromise our mission."

"So you want me to ditch my crew?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I never said to abandon them," Bastila said. "But this is a dangerous mission, one best left to Jedi. We could house them somewhere safe, like the Jedi enclave until we're done."

"You really think that's a good idea?" I asked.

"Mission is a young girl," Bastila argued. "Planet-hopping with us, she could catch a stray blaster bolt or lightsaber strike. If we leave her with the Masters here on Dantooine, she might be a Jedi herself by the time we return."

I shook my head. "You don't get it. Mission goes with Zaalbar. Zaalbar goes with me. I couldn't talk my way out of it. There's no way you'll be successful."

"Putting those two aside for the moment," Bastila continued. "There's still Carth Onasi and the Mandalorian. Do we really need either?"

"If Carth wants to come with us, I'll let him." I shrugged.

"I figured you'd say that," Bastila muttered. "What about the Mandalorian. It doesn't even look like anyone else gets along with him."

"I don't even see what your big problem is," I said.

"We're trying to be as inconspicuous as possible," Bastila hissed.

"So two Jedi on a smuggling ship is inconspicuous?" I asked.

"It won't be just you and me," Bastila replied.

"Don't tell me Vrook is coming to babysit." I groaned.

"No." Bastila shook her head. "The Council has decided to let Juhani accompany us."

"Juhani?"

Bastila nodded.

"You mean crazy cat lady that tried to kill me Juhani?" I asked.

"Juhani has redeemed herself," Bastila insisted. "Please don't make this any more difficult than it already is."

"And how would I do that?" I asked.

"By insisting that the Mandalorian accompanies us," Bastila answered. "Mandalorians did destroy the Cathar home world."

I snorted. "Well, if Juhani's a real Jedi she should know there is no emotion; there is peace."

"I don't even know why I bother," Bastila retorted. "You can stay in here sulking like a spoiled child for whatever reason you choose, but I am not going to put up with it. You might want to clean the vomit off the floor."

"If you don't want Canderous in this crew, you tell him." I sat upright and hollered, "I'm not going to do your dirty work. You tell him that you think three Jedi running a smuggling ship will look believable and you think he should leave because you feel uncomfortable around him!"

"I never said I felt uncomfortable around him," Bastila exclaimed. "This is a delicate mission and I won't allow people with conflicting morality and ideals to ruin it."

"Then why am I still here?" I demanded.

"I don't want you to leave that room until you're sober," Bastila declared. "And for Force sake, clean the floor."

Bastila stormed out of the crew's quarters, the door shutting behind her. I giggled as I dropped my bottle. Stupid Carth, this was all his fault. Who did he think he was, needling me for information, then not telling me anything in return?

Stupid Carth. Stupid nightmares. Stupid Masters and their stupid Council making me do stupid things. Stupid Malak and stupid T3-M4 just because. Soft pillow.

I was cranky. Bastila had just made things worse. I yanked my boots off and tossed them onto to Bastila's bunk before I curled into a ball. Things would have to get better after I took a nap.


	63. Comforting Presence

Bastila:

I felt horrible. Disappointed and disgusted with myself. Despite Rian's atrocious behavior I should have known not to do what I did. I was supposed to be better than that.

But I had been so angry. So furious that I couldn't help myself. It was completely unacceptable to make her ill. Not that Rian should have been allowed to think that I was nothing but a reserve life force every time she wanted to dull her senses.

Her misery was gnawing at me. I knew it wasn't physical, because I dropped the shields around my life force out of guilt. I admit, I was also troubled and horrified by our nightmares, but my anxiety was nowhere near Rian's current level.

It had to be something deeper. Or more. She certainly wasn't going to tell me anything. I suppose I should have pushed it aside as I had more important things to deal with, but it lingered in the back of my mind.

Careful to avoid the others, I left the Ebon Hawk quickly. Juhani was waiting for me patiently outside the doors to the enclave. The Cathar's hands tightly gripped the hilt of her lightsaber as she systematically disassembled and reassembled the components. Her eyes never left me.

"How are you feeling, Juhani?" I asked.

Her hands suddenly stopped their work.

"That is unimportant," she answered.

I cleared my throat. "We should be leaving as soon as possible."

Juhani nodded and joined my side.

"That Padawan, Rian," she began. "I would like to speak with her. I would like to thank her."

I tried to will the color back into my face.

"I'm sure Rian would love to talk with you," I told her. "But now is not the best time."

"Is something wrong?" Juhani asked.

"Rian is not feeling her best at the moment," I replied. "In her current condition, I'm afraid she wouldn't welcome company."

"If she is ill, I could tend to her," Juhani offered.

"No," I snapped.

Juhani's ears flattened against her skull.

"What I mean to say is that, it's nothing serious," I continued. "Rian's not in need of conventional healing, only time."

"If you feel so strongly on the matter, then I will respect your wishes," Juhani lilted.

When we entered the Ebon Hawk, I quickly directed Juhani towards the port dormitories on the opposite side of the ship from Rian. I could only pray that the Cathar's sensitive nose would not pick up the scent of vomit and liquor from that distance. That was the least of my worries, however.

In the garage area of the ship, both Canderous Ordo and the astromech were smoking. T3-M4's gears whirred madly as the little droid tried to dash out of the Mandalorians firm grip.

"Hold still, you pain in my ass," Canderous grumbled between the cigarra in his lips. "This is for your own good."

T3-M4 gave an irritated bleat.

"Can I have a word with you?" I asked.

"Can you talk over this squealing trash compactor?" Canderous retorted.

"Do you really feel that it's necessary for you to accompany us?" I murmured.

"What?" the Mandalorian barked. He roughly jabbed his hydrospanner into an exposed circuit in the droid's backside.

T3-M4 shrieked.

"I said, do you really feel that it's necessary for you to accompany us?" I hollered.

Canderous set the hydrospanner down and exhaled a plume of smoke.

"No," he replied levelly. "I don't."

"Then you have no problem departing from the Ebon Hawk?" I ventured.

Canderous dropped his hands and the droid zipped away.

"Lady," he said. "If you leave me on this hayfield, I swear I will jump on the first transport out of here and I will not stop tracking you until your head is skewered on my vibrosword."

"Colorful imagery aside, I will not be pushed around by your threats," I warned.

"I'm not leaving this ship," Canderous said flatly.

"That's all I needed to hear," I sniffed. "I'd appreciate it if you kept your hydrospanner away from the droid's memory core in the future."

I heard the Mandalorian snort as I walked away. That did not go well at all. I swallowed my frustration as I headed towards the cockpit.

Carth was staring blankly at the galaxy map, a cup of caffa in his hand.

"Is no one on this ship happy?" I murmured.

Carth blinked and turned to face me.

"Hey," he said. "I didn't hear you sneak up."

"It wasn't my intention to sneak," I replied. "You look troubled."

"I'm just trying to figure out the quickest hyperspace route to take." Carth shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"Carth, anxiety is pouring off of you," I pressed. "Are you sure you don't want to talk?"

He sighed and took a sip of his caffa.

"Do you always do that?" he asked. "Use the Force to read people?"

"How could you say that?" I turned my attention to the galaxy map. "Even a non-Force adept could see that you're miserable."

Carth sat in the pilot's seat and began to punch in coordinates.

"You know things about the Force," Carth said. "Maybe I should talk to you."

I sat in the co-pilots seat. "Very well."

"How powerful is Rian?" he asked.

I blanched. "Why do you wish to know?"

"I just need to know."

"I have never seen anyone more powerful in the Force than Rian," I admitted. "I suspect that that's one of the reasons why the Council chose to train her despite her age."

Carth looked relieved as he nodded.

"What is this all about, Carth?" I asked.

"Could someone be so powerful in the Force that they share a dream or nightmare with someone else?"

"Did you dream of Revan too?" I gasped.

"No," Carth said. "What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?" I countered.

"I've been having these dreams, nightmares, for years now," Carth confessed.

"About what?" I asked.

"The content's not important," he growled. "Suffice it to say that Rian started sharing them."

"She wouldn't do such a thing," I muttered. "No, she would."

"She has," Carth corrected.

"It wasn't a conscious effort on her part," I reassured. "The only thing that I can assume is that her own nightmares were so horrible that she retreated from her mind and reached out to a comforting presence."

"Comforting presence?" Carth scoffed. "That's ridiculous. You're trying to tell me that Rian would hop from one nightmare to another?"

"You're not listening to me," I replied. "I said a comforting presence, as in, you. Your nightmares are irrelevant."

"Me?" Carth mumbled. "Why am I a comforting presence?"

I sighed. "That's not an answer that I have."

"Are you ready to head to Kashyyyk?"

I nodded and concentrated on Dantooine's landscape through the viewport. This was going to be troublesome. Jedi were not permitted to form attachments. Not that I suspected that either of the fools would listen to me. Troublesome, indeed.


	64. Unruly Cubs

Zaalbar:

The meal laid before the crew actually appeared edible. Strange. The new Jedi, the Cathar, attributed it to Bastila, while the pale skinned woman credited the Cathar. The production was stiff, but it was civil.

The conversation during dinner was sparse. The Mandalorian said nothing, only shoveled the food into his mouth quickly. Rian was ashen faced and stared vacantly at her plate. Carth and the two remaining Jedi partook in forced banter that seemed to be a ritual of appearances. I suppose I will never fully understand.

I was relieved to see that a fellow alien had joined our crew. The Cathar were another slave species, Juhani would understand the plight of me and my cub.

Mission absently poked at her food.

"Hey, Big Z," she hissed. "What is this stuff?"

"/Dinner,/ " I answered. "/You should be grateful./"

"It's a recipe native to Talravin," Bastila said.

"It looks like puke," Mission whispered.

Rian shot the Twi'lek child a hideous glare.

"What?" Mission demanded.

"/You should try to be a little considerate to the others that travel with us,/" I said.

"Last time I checked, there weren't any Wookiee Jedi," Mission retorted. "You mind being a little less cryptic?"

"/Why don't you go play pazaak with the droid?/" I suggested.

"Because droids don't have credits," Mission replied. "What's the point in playing then?"

"/It can also be a form of entertainment./"

Mission rolled her eyes.

"/And it's an opportunity to hone your skill without losing money yourself,/" I offered.

"But if I lost to him I could just give him a memory wipe," Mission argued.

"/What's the point in that?/" I countered. "/He doesn't have any credits so you'll be playing Republic Senate rules./"

"But Teethree is smug enough as it is," Mission said. "If I lose to him, he won't let me forget it unless I do a memory wipe."

"/Think of it as a challenge,/" I replied. "/The astromech has advanced mathematical and logic based skills. If you can beat him, think of how many credits you can win at the next cantina we visit./"

"Alright, alright!" Mission exclaimed. "I'll go play with the droid."

She stuck her tongue out at me before mumbling something about not being a "kid" as she stormed off. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Rian propped her head up on a hand weakly. Not since we entered hyperdrive five standard days ago had the human female been seen without a drink in her hand. She smelled repulsive, I was certain that the Cathar Jedi had also picked up on this fact.

The other human female, Bastila, only appeared to be concerned with completing whatever task we had set out for. That fact angered me irrationally. Could she not sense Rian Vega's destructive nature, did the Jedi not take care of their own?

My life was indebted to the black haired woman and as a result I readily accepted both she and Carth Onasi into my honor family without question. But it seemed that Rian battled against an enemy that despite my pledge, I couldn't protect her against. It was infuriating, but I couldn't fathom how to protect her from herself or her habits.

So I waited patiently. Perhaps all someone had to do was confront her about her behavior, but I expected the result would be explosive. Besides, everyone has secrets they want to remain buried. I hadn't even found the courage to tell my own cub that my fellow Wookiees had branded me a Madclaw, so I understood only too well that a concerned smile wouldn't compel a person to say anything.

The Cathar Jedi stood and began collecting the dinner dishes silently. When she made her way to me, instead of collecting my plate she spooned another serving of food onto it. She gave me a knowing nod and I voiced my thanks.

"I would like to be left alone to meditate for a while," Bastila announced. "I'll be in the starboard quarters if anyone needs me."

The Jedi woman slipped out of the main hold and disappeared around a corner. The Mandalorian merely raised an eyebrow at the dispersing crew as he continued to eat. Rian's eyes were locked with Carth's. Humans are strange creatures.

The Mandalorian finally pushed his plate away and retreated towards the garage without saying a word. That left only me, Rian and Carth. I felt like I should have left as well, but their expressions unnerved me. From my experience with humans they were either going to kill each other, or mate.

They were part of my honor family so I had to see to it that they didn't try to end the other's life, but beyond that was up to them. I decided to pay close attention to Rian's behavior over Carth's because whereas I could get a clear indication of the male's agitation through smell, the female's scent was muddied with alcohol.

Rian was the first to speak.

"You've been very quiet lately, you know that?"

"Have I been quiet?" Carth murmured. "I suppose I have. You've been drinking a lot lately, you know that?"

"I suppose I have." Rian nodded.

"It makes your breath smell like trash," Carth noted.

"Like you're going to find out tonight, pal," Rian muttered.

"I just don't like being left out of the loop," Carth continued.

"I'm not the one leaving you out of the loop, Carth," Rian said.

"No?" Carth replied. "Well, you certainly aren't helping matters any and it's really starting to irritate me. For one thing, I want to know what the Jedi Council said to you. They pulled you in there and refused to tell me a thing about it."

"That is none of your concern, Carth and you would do well to leave the matter be."

I snapped my head to the doorway where Bastila lingered and snarled. She shot me an icy glare in return and I bared my teeth. That foolish woman was only going to make matters worse.

"I respect you, Bastila, but you've been as closemouthed as the rest of the Council," Carth said through gritted teeth. "If you won't talk to me, then maybe somebody else will."

He turned his attention back to Rian. I walked over to the doorway and stared Bastila down.

"/Meditate, Jedi,/" I suggested. "/I will ensure that things do not escalate here./"

"I have every right to be there," Bastila insisted. "More so than you do."

"/Meditate, Jedi,/" I repeated. "/Your presence will only be a burden that this conversation doesn't need./"

Bastila opened her mouth as if to argue, but closed it and nodded. Her look was cold, but her scent betrayed her.

"They thought it was more important that I help find the Star Maps than stay." Rian shrugged.

"And why is that?" Carth asked. "You were a great help on Taris, but why would they keep you with us? Don't they have to train you?"

"Are you saying that I'm not needed?" Rian's gaze drifted towards the table. "What are you doing skipping into the Jedi Order's business?"

"No, I don't…" Carth groaned. "I didn't mean that you weren't wanted or that I want to go! It's just…"

The words seemed to catch in the man's throat as he watched Rian, her brows furrowed as she concentrated on the stray dinner crumbs on the table.

"Damn it!" Carth exploded. "I'll tell you this much, I am not going to wait around until I'm betrayed again!"

Rian brought her head up and tore into him with her eyes.

"I am not going to betray you!" she screamed. "I am not Saul!"

Perhaps it's because their life spans are shorter than ours, but humans are excitable creatures. I only wished Rian had given me a warning of her outburst. It left my eardrums reeling.

"Yeah? Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?" Carth muttered as he stood up. "Look, I didn't mean it that way. I want to get Saul not—forget it. It seems all I can do is insult you, isn't it? Just forget I said anything."

He left in the direction of the cockpit. As soon as Carth was out of sight, Rian chucked a bottle in the direction in which he left. I walked over to Rian and hoisted the tiny woman into an arm.

"Let me go!" she hollered. "Bastard!"

"/You are not the age of the cubs in a nursery,/" I said. "/You should not act like them./"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Rian demanded, kicking her legs wildly.

"/Grow up,/" I barked.

She continued to struggle until I tightened my grip around her ribs. I squeezed her until she squeaked. Defeated, Rian hung limply underneath my left arm as I carried her into the crew quarters.

In full lotus, Bastila opened one eye as we entered the room. The Jedi sighed and shut her eye again.

"I'm trying to focus," she said. "Could you please take her somewhere else?"

"/No,/" I rumbled. "/She needs you./"

I dropped Rian on the ground. The woman stumbled and threw a punch in my direction. I caught her fist in my hand.

"I don't need anyone!" Rian bellowed.

I turned to Bastila. "/And you need her./"

"I think you are mistaken," Bastila whispered.

"/Children!/" I roared. "/You dare call yourselves Jedi, when you bicker like this?/"

I lifted Rian by her arm and tossed her onto her bunk. She swore when she hit the mattress. I found Mission's footlocker and began to rifle through it. Stun cuffs. I always knew I could count on Mission. I slapped on band around Bastila's wrist and dragged her over to Rian.

"Oh, hell no!" Rian protested.

I closed the other band around Rian's wrist.

"Now wait a minute!" Rian exclaimed. "Get these things off me now! I'm holding you to your life-debt!"

"/The only reason I'm bothering with this is because of my life-debt,/" I growled. "/I only wish I had some jaar and forest honey/ "

"You can't do this!" Bastila stammered. "Release us!"

"/I will when we exit hyperdrive,/" I replied. "/Now silence yourselves./"

I shut the door on them and shattered the control console with my fist. Now they would learn to cooperate, or by the time T3-M4 fixed the door one would be dead.


	65. Song of Truce

Rian:

"Click."

"Hush."

"Click."

"Stop it."

"Click."

"You're infuriating."

"Cl—"

"Rian, I mean it!" Bastila snapped. "Why do you insist on being so juvenile?"

I groaned. "I can't take this. It feels like we've been trapped in here forever."

"It's only been about two hours," Bastila said. "You need to learn how to calm yourself."

"Two hours?" I wanted to die. "How long before we leave hyperspace?"

"Another two days at the most," Bastila answered.

"Can't you just kill me and get it over with?" I begged.

"The thought had crossed my mind, yes," Bastila replied.

"To hell with this," I decided. "I don't need this. Damn Wookiee."

I stood up and stretched, before I walked towards my footlocker. When I was about a yard away, I felt the tug of the stun cuff on my wrist that connected me to Bastila. I gave it a jerk, but the other woman wouldn't budge.

"No," she said simply.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"No," she repeated. "Do you honestly think I don't know what's in your footlocker?"

"Do you honestly think I care?" I snorted.

I gave the cuff a strong yank. In full lotus, Bastila ignored me. I growled and put my entire body into it. The Force was wrapped around me in an instant and I was flung, face first, into the floor in the opposite direction I was aiming for.

"What is your problem?" I demanded.

"At the moment?" Bastila asked. "Quite a few things, actually."

"You've just made another for yourself," I growled.

I balled my hands into fists and lunged at her. But there was the Force again. And there was the floor again.

"You're very powerful, I'll give you that," Bastila said. "But you lack training, so no amount of directionless strength will be enough to defeat me."

"It wasn't directionless," I huffed. "I was trying to reach your throat."

"How predictable." Bastila sighed. "Sit and meditate with me. It will help to focus you."

"I don't want focus." I slumped down beside her. "That's the problem."

"What do you mean?" Bastila asked. "Chin up, straighten your back."

"Bastila, do you remember your father?"

"Of course I do," she replied. "Why?"

"I have no memory of my father," I said. "What was he like?"

"My father?"

I nodded. The good thing about surviving on a diet that primarily consists of booze is that you have a tendency to blackout and therefore are too incoherent to have any nightmares that may or may not belong to you or any sort of troublesome contradictory memories sprouting up. The not so positive thing about surviving on a diet that primarily consists of booze is that you also have a tendency to constantly feel groggy, sluggish and just plain old sleepy. As I tried to pretend to meditate, I fought to keep my head upright.

"Keep in mind that I was very young when I left for the Order," Bastila said hesitantly. "But I still remember him fondly."

"You and your father were close?" My eyelids drooped.

"He was kind and gentle and doted on me." Bastila smiled.

_"Do you know why I came to see you?" Grandad asked._

_ "Because you brought me treats." The dark haired child grinned._

"My mother, however, was different," Bastila continued. "I was not on good terms with my mother. I was only a little girl when I left, but I was old enough to resent her and the way she treated my father."

_"Will you go to sleep if I sing to you?" Mama asked._

_ "Okay," the girl sighed._

"She pushed my father into treasure hunting," Bastila said. "I spent all my young life on ships traveling from one false lead to the next. She whittled away my father's entire fortune and I hated her for it. I think she was relieved to give me to the Jedi, but my father was heartbroken."

"Did your mother ever sing for you?" I asked.

"My mother?" Bastila raised an eyebrow. "No. My mother never sang for me."

"No?" I yawned. "That's too bad."

"Well, I had a grandmother that would," Bastila offered. "But I only saw her when Mother was fed up with me interfering with my parents' treasure hunting."

"Did you ever try to get in touch with your father again?" I asked.

Bastila sighed. She closed her eyes and pretended to be too deep in meditation to hear me.

"Bastila?"

No response.

"Bastila?"

Her eyebrow twitched, but her mouth stayed shut.

"You can't ignore me forever," I decided. "Why are you trying to shut me out?"

Bastila slowly opened her eyes and directed a glare at me.

"Sometimes I think I truly detest you," she said.

"Only sometimes?" I snorted. "You could have fooled me on that one."

"A Padawan must receive considerable training," Bastila murmured. "They must learn to control their emotions and darker impulses. Often this takes years before using the Force can be considered safe. The fact that you had such relatively little training could have terrible consequences. For you and for everyone else."

"Not you too." I groaned. "Poor little neophyte Padawan being thrown into a rancor pit by those mean, dastardly Masters."

"Carth?"

"None of your damn business."

"I disapprove of your dealings with that man," Bastila said quietly. "There are so many dangerous emotions that explode from both of you whenever the other is near. It's frightening to be honest."

"What about your father?" I changed the subject. "Haven't you contacted him since you joined the Order?"

"No," Bastila replied. "A child is too young to understand the sacrifices that must be made. It is better if they have no contact with their family once they are removed. Once I was older I realized the wisdom of this policy. A Jedi must do what is needed, personal desires notwithstanding. Love can only obscure and confuse the matter."

"You sound very sad when you say that," I realized.

She shrugged.

"Even a Jedi cannot always control the feelings of the heart," Bastila said. "We must do our best to guard against it, no matter what the cost. But some sacrifices are harder than others…"

She trailed off and refused to look at me.

"Well," I announced. "I'm going to grab a little something out of my footlocker."

"No."

"I wasn't asking," I grumbled.

"But I was telling you no," Bastila replied.

Bastila had said I was powerful in the Force. She couldn't be the only one that could move a body with telekinesis. I stood and wrapped her in a ball of Force energy.

The other woman was as light as a thought as I levitated her and pulled her along with me. Bastila spluttered indignantly, but I was in control now. I flipped the latch to my footlocker open and pulled out a bottle.

Almost immediately it shattered in my hands. I swore and turned to face a smirking Bastila. I wiped the sticky liquid off on her Jedi robe.

"How dare you!" Bastila groped at her now stained robe.

"What the hell was that for?" I exclaimed.

"I won't let you drink yourself to death," she declared. "Despite what you think, you're much too important to die."

"What do you think I should do, then?" I bellowed.

"I don't think there is much you can do." Bastila finally broke free from my telekinetic grip. "If things were different I would recommend several years of training under one of the Jedi Masters. But I fear that won't be possible."

She sat back down and I was pulled down with her.

"Thankfully you have exhibited a degree of compassion, although your self-control is lacking," she said. "I sincerely hope you can acquire that trait in the near future."

"What if I don't?" I wove my fingers, sticky with brandy, together.

"Then I fear the worst," Bastila replied. "We must all resist the influence of the Dark Side. It's everything we are fighting against. This is doubly important for you with your natural affinity to the Force."

"Why are you getting so upset?" I asked.

"I'm sorry if I come across as harsh." Bastila averted her eyes. "But I am concerned. For you, for our mission. And for myself."

"Yourself?" I teased. "But aren't you a pillar of good Jediness?"

Her cheeks burned scarlet.

"Our destinies are intertwined," she sniffed. "Because of our bond, everything one of us does will have consequences for the other. Any reckless behavior on your part is likely to affect me as well."

A grin spread across my face.

"So, if Carth and I decide to—"

"Enough, Rian!" Bastila snapped.

"It was just a thought."

"The thought was more than enough for me, let me assure you!"

I stifled a giggle with the back of my hand.

"Look," I managed between my laughter. "It works both ways, doesn't it? You could help me stay strong."

"Some things, Force or no, may be impossible," Bastila muttered.

"Come on!" I guffawed.

"I suppose that's true," Bastila grudgingly said. "I will try my best, but I am no Master. Not yet. But when you need guidance or advice or support I will do what I can to help you stay on the path of light."

"Like sing to me," I suggested.

"What?" Bastila exclaimed.

"Sing to me," I repeated.

"Let's try meditating." Bastila pulled her legs back into the lotus position.

"We already tried that," I said. "It did wonders for my focus, I swear. Now I want you to sing."

"I don't sing," Bastila stammered. "You're making a ridiculous demand."

"Come on," I pestered her. "I figured I'd try getting a nap without using any sleep aids."

"What does me singing have anything to do with that?" Bastila demanded.

"My mother used to sing to me." I shrugged. "It's soothing. It's better to concentrate on that rather than on if Darth Revan will think to cameo in my dreams or not."

"But I don't sing," Bastila protested.

"It's not that difficult."

"I don't know any words."

"Make them up."

Bastila sighed.

"You are a horrible pain," she said. "Sometimes I wonder if I would have been better off if I let you catch a transport to Corellia."

"Does this mean you're going to sing?" I asked.

"Hush," she urged.

I plopped back on the floor of the dormitories and stretched out. Bastila shook her head, but began to hum. A mezzo-soprano, she wasn't half bad. She would fall flat on some of the higher notes, but the eerie and melancholy melody was pleasing. Like a distant memory. My sleep was both dreamless and peaceful.


	66. A Long Day

Carth:

Ahh, Kashyyyk. I only wished that my biggest concern was accidentally finding myself knee-deep in animal dung.

T3-M4 finally fixed the door to the starboard dormitories and released Bastila and Rian. I knew it was inevitable, but I think a part of me hoped that I'd never have to face either of them again. Both women were fine individually, but when their personalities collided, chewing on a thermal detonator would sometimes seem preferable.

But I couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen. Maybe their forced time together had made one or both snap. Maybe Zaalbar knew what he was doing, but it still made me nervous. I just didn't want to be the one to explain it to Mission if Rian started wearing a Wookiee-colored cloak.

So far, nothing irrevocably horrible had happened. Bastila spent quite a long time in the shower and Rian changed the color crystal of her lightsaber repeatedly. When she finally settled on a violet crystal, Bastila was in the process of braiding her damp hair. If I knew they were going to take that long, I would have had another cup of caffa.

"You look troubled."

I started at the lilting voice. The beads in Juhani's topknot rattled as she cocked her head to one side.

"You know, people have been telling me that more and more," I said.

"Then perhaps there is some truth to it," she replied.

"Point taken." I sighed. "But I really don't feel like talking about it. I'd rather bottle it all up. It builds character."

"If by build you mean a festering infection that poisons the carrier, then yes, you are correct," Juhani murmured. "I understand. You and I are alike in that sense, I think."

"Then you understand why I can't talk about it just yet," I said.

"Of course," the Cathar replied.

"Thank you," I mumbled.

Rian bounded into the main cabin and gave her lightsaber a test swing. I shuddered. It missed the door frame by a mere centimeter.

"You have quite the handle on your lightsaber for a fledgling Padawan," Juhani noted.

"I wish I had another one," Rian grumbled. "I always used to handle dual vibroblades."

"I may have enough components on me to construct a second lightsaber for you," Juhani offered quietly.

"Really?" Rian beamed. "That'd be great."

If I didn't know better, I'd say that the Cathar's ears had turned pink.

I cleared my throat.

"So we're on Kashyyyk," I said. "Now what?"

The expression died on Rian's face.

"We should probably figure out who in the crew is fluent in Shyriiwook," she murmured. "In case we have to split up, a translator should be in each group."

"So that leaves Mission and you," I offered.

"I am fluent as well," Juhani said.

"Bastila can understand enough," Rian added. "And I'm sure that little tin can has the capability."

"Guess who owns Kashyyyk?" Mission announced as she stormed in. "Or should I say Edean? Or even better: G5-623!"

"I should have known you'd be the first one off the ship." Rian smirked.

"What are you talking about, Mission?" I asked.

"Czerka," Mission exclaimed. "This is their filthy dock. I was already none too politely told that we owe them 100 credits to use it."

"Do you want me to deal with them?" Rian offered.

"Don't bother." Mission groaned. "I took care of it. For as wise as they supposedly are, Ithorians are wimps. All it took was a couple of creative threats."

"Are you sure that won't cause trouble down the road?" I asked.

"Not if the Ithorian knows what's good for him," Mission replied.

I shook my head. Rian laughed.

"We'll worry about that when we have to," she promised. "But now I have a pretty good idea as to what's going on."

"As do I," Juhani spat.

"Resources," Rian replied. "There's no official government on Kashyyyk to protest or bar Czerka from entering. It makes perfect sense."

"Resources?" Juhani snarled. "Padawan, you are either very naïve or very callous to think that other sentient beings can simply be considered to be resources."

Rian didn't answer.

Instead, Mission walked up the Cathar woman and wrapped her arms around Juhani. Juhani jerked back, but the Twi'lek wasn't dissuaded. The young girl pulled Juhani closer and snuggled her head-tails into the Cathar's arms.

"Rian just doesn't get it," Mission said. "You can't blame her for that."

"Game plan," Rian announced. "I want one group to schmooze and distract Czerka. I want to know how deeply they're invested in Kashyyyk and about any help they may be receiving. Group number two will be heading directly to the forest floor."

"What's on the forest floor?" I asked. "Even the Wookiees stay away from the forest floor. They call it the Shadowlands for a reason."

"Because we had a vision, Rian, did we not?" Bastila waltzed into the main room. She had a dangerous glint in her eye; I suspected she was hell bent on wresting control from Rian.

"The Star Map is not among the trees," Bastila said. "And if it's in the Shadowlands, we must go to the Shadowlands."

"Which leads us to group number three," Rian concluded. "I want someone to stay with the Ebon Hawk. In case the Jedi Council sends any messages and in case Czerka tries any retaliation for Mission's stunt."

"Something tells me that we have no choice in which group we're part of," I muttered.

"Where's the fun in that?" Rian grinned.

"I am not staying on this ship," Mission declared.

"Of course not," Rian agreed. "Bastila, I want you and Carth to deal with Czerka. You're both more diplomatic than I am and a Jedi and Republic soldier makes it seem well-rounded and respectable."

"I'm going to need another cup of caffa if I'm going to be respectable," I grumbled.

"Mission and Juhani can come with me," Rian continued. "Zaalbar's going to give us a tour of the Shadowlands."

"You've forgotten the Mandalorian," Bastila pointed out.

"Nope, Canderous and his pet droid get to hang out on the Ebon Hawk," Rian replied. "I wouldn't have trusted Czerka if we had paid their docking fee."

"Where is Canderous, anyway?" I asked. "And for that matter, Zaalbar?"

"Zaalbar's probably flipping through his datapad to see if any of the numbers of his lady friends are still valid," Rian said. "I lent him some of your cologne; I just hope he doesn't decide to drink it."

"My cologne?" I spluttered.

Which one? I could live if it was the Corellian Spice, but damn it that Alderaan Blue was expensive.

"Uh, I'll go check on Big Z," Mission offered quickly.

As the Twi'lek vanished through the door, I sighed and headed towards the caffa pot.

"The last I saw of the Mandalorian, he was by the workbench, having a conversation with the droid," Juhani said. "I do not think he will be pleased with the idea of being left on the ship."

"We can't afford to leave more than a couple people on the ship," Rian replied. "And Canderous is a one man army. He'll appreciate the peace and quiet at least."

A fresh mug of caffa in my hands, I pretended to concentrate on sipping. I nearly gagged when I heard Mission's high pitched shrieks from the other side of the ship.

"You worthless fur ball! Open this damn door now!"

"What?" Rian muttered. "Did the carpet lock himself in the male cabin? Why the hell would he do that?"

Bastila circled an arm around mine and began to tug me towards the exit.

"As distressing as this turn of events is, I think it's in the best interest of the mission if Carth and I head out to Czerka Corporation's base as soon as possible," she said. "So if you'll excuse us, best of luck with Zaalbar."

Before Rian could reply, Bastila was hurrying me down the hallway, right into Canderous Ordo. The Mandalorian said nothing, only raised an eyebrow. Bastila cleared her throat.

"Please direct any questions you have to Rian Vega," Bastila told him, before continuing to drag me on.

I sighed. It was going to be a very long day.


	67. Babysitting

Canderous:

"So some freeloader's been stowing away on our ship?" I loaded a charge into my blaster.

T3-M4 whistled gleefully.

"You got it," I replied. "Just remember, no concussive mines or grenades, we still need this ship intact."

The droid emitted a deep gurgle. I groaned and gave it a swift kick to get it rolling. T3-M4 continued with its loud proclamations as soon as it was out of reach. I shook my head; that thing had more personality than I could reprogram.

I suppose I was grateful for the distraction. Babysitting a ship was insulting to someone of my talents. I had already upgraded my blaster and programmed a couple interesting protocols into the astromech droid. All that was really left was sanding that hideous purple paint off of Davik Kang's old armor.

So when I initially caught sight of T3-M4, I was prepared to blast it full of holes. The droid had developed a taste for haikus, specifically haikus about Mandalorian genitalia, that had proven resistant to my reprogramming attempts. But when I noticed that its first phrase had more than three syllables, I started to pay attention.

The droid had noticed that someone had torn into a sack of grain in the cargo hold and several protein bars in another canister had bites missing. I would have brushed it off as Rian on some idiotic drunken rampage, but she had been locked in the starboard dormitories for the past few days. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of some unfortunate fool who was about to get their skull split open.

With my blaster cocked and ready, I waited in the shadows of the cargo hold. T3-M4 would search the Ebon Hawk and pretend to go about his usual maintenance of the ship. I could be patient, the freeloader would have to come back to the cargo hold eventually, that was where the food was.

So as I counted the clicks emitted by the hyperdrive, the day passed on. Sure enough, the thief eventually chose to resurface. Pressed close to the wall, the bastard was scrambling towards the nearest food canister. I calmly stepped from the shadows and pointed my blaster directly against the freeloader's skull.

"Got you," I said.

The child that stared wide eyed down the barrel of my blaster couldn't have been more than six standard years. Her large brown eyes blinked once before she began to wail.

Her face reddened with the intensity of her bloodcurdling shrieks. I swore and set my blaster down.

"Quiet, damn it!"

It only encouraged her to howl louder.

"T3-M4, get in here," I ordered. "It's a kriffing kid!"

I could hear the droid's toots as it hurried towards the cargo hold. The whelp was inconsolable, torrents pouring from her eyes and a growing wet spot in her crotch.

The astromech stopped cautiously in the doorway.

"Get in here," I growled.

T3-M4 burbled and began to slowly circle the child. If anything, that only heightened whatever terror she was feeling. The child plopped down on her soiled bottom, took a deep breath and resumed her hysterics.

"Do I have to do everything myself?" I snarled.

The droid gave a low whistle in reply.

"Keep talking like that," I said. "I'll let it rust off."

I ignored T3-M4's frazzled blips and turned my attention to the child. She foolishly had her hands over her head, like that would conceal her despite the noise she was creating.

"I'm going to ask you once to shut your mouth," I said.

More hiccupped gibberish. To hell with it.

I snatched the kid in my arms and crushed my palm over her mouth. An amazing thing happened. Tears leaked freely from the girl's eyes and snot flowed from her nose and onto my hand, but her shrill screams stopped. Not for the first time in my life I was relieved that my armor was waterproof.

The child's shock quickly faded and she began to whimper softly. I tightened my grip on her face.

T3-M4 bleeped at me. As the droid pulled its flamethrower out, I growled.

"You shut up too," I commanded.

The droid gurgled sadly, but I saw its flamethrower return to its hidden compartment.

That's when I heard first heard the footsteps. It wasn't my crew, Rian walked with a heavy left foot, the Jedi dame fancied heels and Onasi's military training was evidenced in his gait. No, this person's step was slow enough to show caution, yet haughty and confident enough to let himself be heard.

It was a mistake to have assumed that bastard to be dead. But I intended to remedy that.

"Teethree," I hissed. "You know the drill. Scout out numbers for me."

The droid burbled.

"Do it, damn it," I snarled. "There's no reason for them to hurt you. You're a kriffing utility droid. Utility droids aren't supposed to have flamethrowers."

Obscene comments aside, the droid obliged. I turned to the child in my arms.

"Quiet," I urged. "Or I'll let them have you."

I slowly removed my hand from the girl's mouth. Her tears exhausted, a mucus bubble popped in her nostril as she looked up with dull eyes. It would have to do. I placed the child in an empty food canister and tossed in a couple of protein bars for good measure.

From the main cabin, T3-M4 whistled loudly. Two searching the starboard, two searching the port. Their leader was content to wait in the main cabin. I slung my blaster over my back and returned to the shadows.

The kid started to whimper. I should have just snapped her neck when I had the chance. She'd create a distraction at least. I edged towards the doorway.

I saw the man's blaster first. Skittish and defensive. As soon as his head peeked through, I had my hands clamped on either side of it and gave a nice hard jerk.

Before the sound of his breaking neck had completely resonated, I had already tossed the corpse into a corner. There was one remaining that was headed in my direction, if I could take care of him first and pick the other two off it would be much easier to take the man waiting in the main cabin. Easier also meant less fun, but I had the ship to consider.

A hiss of dead air caught my attention. The merc was wearing a comlink. Figured. I swiped the man's headset and put the earpiece on.

"This is A. Med bay secure."

"This is B. Garage secure."

"This is D. I've lost contact with C."

I wondered how secure the med bay was. I slipped out of the cargo hold and crept down the corridor. D ran into the butt of my blaster along the way as I continued towards my destination.

My entire plan changed as I passed the main cabin. That patient smirk of his filled me with rage. He thought he could come into my ship and kill me?

His back facing me, he shook his head.

"I have to give you credit," Calo Nord said. "You've led me on quite a chase. But nobody gets away from Calo Nord in the end."

"I see you brought some backup, Calo," I replied. "Realized I was bit much to handle on your own, eh?"

"You got lucky on Taris; the Sith attack saved you from a quick and gruesome death," Calo growled. "But I promise you, the Sith won't be getting in my way this time."

"You traveled a long way just to die," I answered.

I threw a flash grenade and shielded myself on the other side of the doorframe.

"Those won't work on me, Ordo," Calo called out. "Don't disappoint me."

I didn't answer. If Calo felt like making a target of himself he could, but I was more interested in finding his lackeys.

I found A and put blaster hole in the base of his skull. Damn fool didn't realize he was dead and jerked and twitched around enough to make a disgusting mess on the cot in the med bay.

In the distance I could hear that kid in the cargo hold shrieking and hollering again. How the hell did that brat manage to stay alive for so long?

"A little help, Teethree," I ordered.

"So what are you doing on Kashyyyk, anyway?" Calo sounded relaxed and in his element. "You don't strike me as the type to take in the scenery, Canderous."

I heard blaster shots and then static on my comlink. That left only Calo.

"I'm getting impatient, Ordo," Calo warned. "I want the Jedi, not you, but I will blow this ship into slag if you insist on being difficult."

Difficult because I didn't trust a mercenary's peace overture? No, that was called common sense. I had once been privy to what the results of surrendering to Calo Nord were.

Another high pitched shriek sounded from the cargo hold. Where the hell was that droid?

"What do we have here?" Calo laughed. "Kid needs a bath."

Leave it to a two-bit coward to complicate things. I did not want to deal with the headache of having to explain why the butchered remains of some child were in the cargo hold to the rest of the Ebon Hawk's crew. Of course, if I made quick work of Calo, I could toss all the remains off the docking bay and into the Shadowlands.

The incoherent wailing grew louder as Calo hauled his bounty back to the main cabin.

"I'm going to cut her left pinky off first," Calo announced. "Then I'll move to her right pinky."

"You talk like I should be concerned," I said as I walked into the main cabin.

"Nice bluff." Calo smirked as he hoisted the girl's body in front of his own. "But I call."

"Then you lose." I slung my blaster forward and aimed.

"You magnificent bastard." Calo chuckled.

He threw the child at me and grabbed for his own weapon. I kicked the girl aside and fired, but the distraction cost me. The shot went wild and ricocheted off of Calo's shoulder. His own blaster bolt connected squarely with my diaphragm. My body armor softened the blow, but I was still sent into a wall and left with a burn across my chest.

I kept firing as I fell, but I only managed to destroy the shields that Calo had activated. I ignored Calo's smirk in favor of the flustered burbling behind him.

"Stop your gloating and just shoot!" I demanded.

"To the point," Calo said. "I always appreciated that about you."

I snorted as I pulled out my cigarra case.

"I wasn't talking to you," I muttered.

Calo didn't scream. I didn't know if he was too shocked or too prideful to allow himself that weakness, but I didn't care. I stood up and walked over to his body, writhing in flames, and lit my cigarra.

T3-M4 preened, pleased with its handiwork.

"You took your damn time," I said.

The droid chose to ignore me. Instead, T3-M4 wheeled over to the child. She blinked and brought a filthy hand up and batted at the astromech's optic sensor. T3-M4 gurgled and hastily rolled back away from the girl.

"What?" I asked. "What about the kid?"

The droid chose the longwinded explanation, so I cut him off.

"I need to take care of Calo's flaming carcass," I said. "And his lackeys. If you want the girl, keep her. I can't be bothered with it."

I turned from the child and droid and went about my work.


	68. Diplomacy

Bastila:

"Welcome to Edean!"

"Enjoy your stay on Edean."

"How are you, traveler? What brings you to G5-623?"

My face was going to crack from smiling so much. I had been in Czerka Corporation's Kashyyyk headquarters for hardly an hour and already I detested it.

"That was pretty impressive," Carth whispered. "How did you arrange a meeting with the head of Czerka on Kashyyyk?"

"Now is not the time to discuss that," I said. "Janos will be here any moment."

I couldn't help but feel tense. I always felt disgusted with myself after using the Force to invade another sentient creature's mind. Perhaps if Rian's emotions weren't raging through our bond, influencing me, I could have negotiated a meeting with Janos instead of using a cheap mind trick.

"/Greetings./" A plump Ithorian had what I assumed to be a fake smile. "/How can Czerka Corporation serve you during your visit to Edean/"

"Good afternoon," I replied. "I take it that you are Janos?"

"/Your assumption is correct, human/" the Ithorian said. "/How may I help you/"

"My companion is Carth Onasi, a representative of the Republic," I said. "And I come on behalf of the Jedi Council. I was hoping that you would be willing to answer a few questions."

"/I will do what I can to help you/" Janos replied.

Carth snorted. That man's talents obviously weren't in diplomacy.

I bit my lip, but continued on. "Tell me about the planet, please. I had heard it was called G5-623."

"/G5-623 is the numerical designation/" Janos explained.

The gurgling Ithorian tongue was beginning to grate on my ears. I took a deep breath and tried to push Rian from my mind.

"/The galactic Basic name is 'Edean,' chosen by corporate ballot among stock holders/" he stated.

"Ah." I nodded. "Might I pry as to why Czerka is even on Edean?"

"/You are going to try, regardless of what I say, are you not/" The Ithorian chortled. "/The simple answer is profit. Czerka Corporation is a business and discovered a rather promising venture on this planet./"

"Perhaps I lack the business savvy of those in charge of Czerka Corporation," I said. "But to invest in Edean seems like a waste. The planet's surface is a death trap and there's only so many giant wroshyr trees that the galactic market will demand. It would make more sense to inhabit, Ithor, for example."

I couldn't sense any reaction from the Ithorian. Perhaps he had been too long away from his herd, but I couldn't conceive of an Ithorian unaffected by the thought of his home world being mercilessly stripped of resources.

"/Edean is a trove of wealth/" Janos replied. "/This planet is home to many unrefined resources as well as an endless supply of labor./"

"Labor?" I asked.

"So you're slavers," Carth said. "Classy line of work."

I glared at him. Was I the only one in my blasted group to possess a rational thought? "Why would the Wookiees tolerate this?"

"/It's not me, personally./" Janos directed his words towards Carth. "/I merely represent Czerka Corporation at this outpost. There are other directors at other stations, of course. Arrangements have been made with the Wookiee leadership. Harvesting is handled as delicately as possible, relatively speaking./"

He was trying to retreat. I reached out to his mind. All I needed was a single foothold in his brain to begin to make him susceptible to my suggestions.

"Tell me about it," I said. "I might be more understanding if I understood." I could sense Rian strongly and it was making me horribly nervous. Her emotions danced vividly in reds and blacks. I vowed to teach her some deep meditative techniques once we were both back on the Ebon Hawk.

"/If it will ease your temper, I will give specifics./" Janos was looking at me curiously. I felt like I needed to lie down. "/We supply arms in exchange for a supply of healthy Wookiees. We are kept profitable and an agreeable leader is kept in power. It keeps the process from becoming a constant firefight./"

I was shaking. What was that rage that I sensed? Rian was killing. Or she planned to, in the most barbaric way she could imagine.

"Are you alright?" Carth asked.

This was inconvenient. It was hardly the correct way to squeeze information out of a person. I could have erected a shield against Rian, but that would have denied me Force energy for persuading Janos.

"I'm perfectly fine," I insisted. "I just haven't been on a planet's surface in so long. I need to regain my land legs."

"/I do not mean to be rude, but we have some scientific work going on at this facility/" Janos said. "/They require a sterile environment for precision. If you are ill, perhaps we should continue this discussion at a later date./"

"What is the leader's name?" I asked.

The Ithorian blinked. This was not how I had wanted this meeting to go at all.

"/I believe his name is Chuundar/" Janos replied. He backed towards the doorway. "/I don't deal directly with them, thank goodness. Far too brutish./"

"Thank you for your time, Janos," I said. I redirected all my energy towards a barrier. "I'm sure you're a busy person, so I won't bother you with anymore questions."

"/Of course/" Janos said. "/I would advise against going too far from the main landing area. The planet is still very much untamed and we do not send out patrols for lost tourists./"

"I'll keep that in mind." I made a beeline for the exit.

Carth was immediately on my heels.

"What was that about?" he demanded. "You looked like you were going to throw up on that Ithorian's shoes."

"The thought had crossed my mind, yes," I replied. "But I'm alright now."

"What happened?" Carth asked.

"Rian," I answered. "Something's off. I just know it."

"I think we should head back to the Ebon Hawk," Carth wrapped his fingers around my arm. "You can sit down, meditate or something. I'll make caffa."

I brushed his hand away. "We need to find Rian."

"You're really worried about her," Carth realized.

"I'm not concerned about her," I snapped. "I'm concerned about what she's done. Or what she will do."

Carth was staring at me strangely. Let him think I was insane, it made no difference.

"Let me look for her," he said. "You're trembling."

I grasped the wooden railing to the ramp that led to the docking area. Solid. I was steady. I took a deep breath.

Rian's thoughts spoke murder. I consoled myself with the fact that many thoughts stay in the mind alone and never come to fruition. But I could smell the hewn flesh and nearly taste the blood splattered on her hands. If I could just find her in time.

"Let's hurry Carth," I said. "I have a really bad feeling."

We trotted down the ramp towards the gate that led to the planet. An armed guard was in our way, filled to the brim with self-importance.

I was about to ask him to open the gates, when they were kicked in from the opposite side. Rian stalked through the gateway, an ugly welt on her cheek.

Behind her was Juhani. A searing anger radiated between the two women, while Mission sneered over her building panic.

"Rian…"

"Those hairy bastards took him," she snarled.


	69. Among Ravenous Creatures

Juhani:

"What happened?" Carth demanded.

"Mission, I want you to head back to the Ebon Hawk now," Rian commanded. "Trade places with Canderous."

"I'm coming with you," Mission insisted. "I'm not going to sit around while who knows what happens to Zaalbar. I can't."

"I don't have the time to argue with you," Rian growled. "Go. Now."

"But—"

"I don't want you to see me like this," Rian interrupted. "Now, go."

Mission narrowed her eyes, but hurried off without another sound.

"Rian, please calm down," Bastila pleaded. "You're getting reckless."

"Bastila, you follow Mission," Rian said. "I want you to make sure Czerka keeps their mitts off of my ship."

"You're too angry," Bastila argued. "You're going to make an enormous mess—"

"You say it like that's a bad idea." Rian gave her a feral grin.

I placed my hand on Bastila's shoulder. "She is too angry to listen to anyone right now," I said. "I think that perhaps you should do what she says for the moment, if only to keep from enraging her further."

"But her thoughts are of the Dark Side!" Bastila protested.

"I will watch her," I promised.

"Anger is rolling off of you as well," Bastila said.

"I am a Jedi," I said. "I will take care of things."

"I'll contact you on your comlink if anything happens," Carth offered.

Bastila nodded slowly before she followed after Mission.

"Are your blasters charged up?" Rian asked Carth.

"Always," he replied. "Will somebody tell me what's going on?"

"I'm going to cut through a Wookiee village, is what," Rian snapped.

"No," I interrupted sternly. "We find the mad Wookiee in the Shadowlands, is what. I do not think the Jedi Order condones genocide."

"Those bastards just took him like we were no better than children," Rian continued. "And that idiot, that nerf-herder just let them take him! Chuundar's going to be choking on my lightsaber."

"Rian Vega if you cannot control your outbursts, I'll send you back to the Ebon Hawk with Bastila," I said. "I am concerned for Zaalbar as well, but we have a mission to accomplish."

"What the hell happened to you?" Canderous marched down the ramp towards us. The Mandalorian cracked a grin as he eyed the bruise along Rian's cheek.

"Rian was physically removed from the Wookiee village," I said.

"I figured you were getting bored on that ship," Rian said to the Mandalorian.

"Something like that," Canderous replied.

"Alright, we're heading into the Shadowlands," Rian announced. "We've some more goals now, too. Find the Star Map, find some crazy Wookiee and kick that schutta of a Wookiee Chieftain in the teeth for holding Zaalbar hostage."

I said nothing. I feared that Zaalbar's predicament had to do with his culture and that perhaps Rian was about to make a terrible mistake. After all, Zaalbar had said that the Chieftain, Chuundar, was his brother.

The day had not started pleasantly. Being the only human in our group, the entire planet just assumed that Rian owned Zaalbar, Mission and myself. I would have thought that the lightsaber attached to my belt would have spoken otherwise. I do not know how the others felt about the situation, but it left me dwelling on old memories.

We were nearly arrested when a Czerka slaver started to pat down Mission's lekku and discuss prices. A boot to the groin from Mission, a lightsaber pointed in his face from Rian and a roaring Zaalbar was an intimidating combination. Fortunately they heeded my suggestion and we slipped through the gates into wild Kashyyyk before the Czerka man could call for backup.

It got progressively worse. Hidden by the branches, a slave cartel leader had decided to "put down" an unruly Wookiee. Rian tried to blackmail them and they attacked. Perhaps it was an honest negotiation mistake, but I suspected that Rian kept raising her price to goad the slavers into violence. Self defense wasn't against the Jedi Code.

Kinrath were everywhere. Zaalbar became more morose as we traveled further into the heart of Kashyyyk. The random Wookiees we encountered on our way to the village seemed enraged by our very presence. They called Zaalbar a "madclaw" and they spoke it as if the very word defiled their lips. But we pressed on and lost Zaalbar because of it.

I still couldn't decide if we made the correct choice. Zaalbar surrendered so easily to Chuundar, but my stomach twisted in knots over the value of the Wookiee Chieftain's word. I hoped my instinct was wrong, but how much would Zaalbar be worth to Chuundar alive after we had completed the task he had given us?

I was just relieved that the further we traveled into Kashyyyk, the less regular the slavers became. Their cages were much too small for a full grown Wookiee; I didn't even want to try to imagine how they forced their captives into those prisons.

"Are you going to say anything?" Carth called after Rian. "Or are you just going to keep marching forward like a madwoman?"

Rian snorted and continued her angry hike.

"Juhani?" That man got irritated far too easily. "Somebody? Anybody?"

"Czerka has their claws sunk deep into this planet," I said.

"I know," Carth replied. "They have the cooperation of a Wookiee Chieftain for their slave operations."

"That Chieftain's name is Chuundar," I said. "He is both Zaalbar's captor and brother."

"That's just great," Carth muttered. "I'd love to see what their family reunions are like."

Rian plodded forward. The Mandalorian's attentions were on the scope of his blaster and I had the sinking feeling that I was the only one in the group that was relatively calm. And I wanted to destroy Czerka.

Amid the thick foliage the Wookiees had set up a system of pulleys that lowered a platform down into the Shadowlands. Like Chuundar had promised, a Wookiee named Gorwooken was waiting for us at the platform.

He bared his teeth at our arrival. "/Chuundar has commanded that I grant you access to the Shadowlands. Your soft feet are a barely tolerated insult./"

Rian tested out the platform's railing before leaning against it. "Just unlock the thing and lower me down, Carpet," she said.

"/The descent is long/" Gorwooken growled. "/Be still, or we will attract… unwelcome visitors./"

"Exar Kun in a tiara!" Rian huffed. "I'll sing all sixteen verses of _Fast Love in Deep Space_ if I feel like it."

"/And you will prove to be very easy prey/" Gorwooken replied.

"Rian, silence," I commanded. "Save your energy for the task at hand."

Rian glowered.

"Besides," Carth cleared his throat. "There are seventeen verses to _Fast Love in Deep Space_."

Rian smirked. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to share the final verse with me?"

"It's a bit inappropriate for a mixed audience," he muttered.

"You afraid the Mandalorian might blush?" she asked.

"Yes." Carth laughed nervously. "I'm refusing entirely for his sake."

"I've heard it." Canderous snorted. "It's anatomically impossible trash that children snicker over."

Rian raised an eyebrow. "Are you just upset because you find yourself lacking?"

"Don't waste my time," Canderous said.

They fell into silence as the platform continued to sink lower into Kashyyyk. I wanted to talk to Gorwooken. To ask him what he thought of Czerka, about how many children disappeared from their nurseries, if he had ever felt a collar around his neck. Instead, I bit my lip.

Kashyyyk's surface, the Shadowlands, was blanketed in a dark fertile soil that the wroshyr trees fed off of. So far below the canopy of leaves, I could see why it was called the Shadowlands. Gorwooken said nothing as he opened the platform's gate.

"How hard will it be to find a single Wookiee on a planet covered with them?" Rian began to test the weight of her lightsaber in her off hand.

"We will just have to begin somewhere," I said as I stepped from the platform.

I reached out with the Force. The planet's surface was teeming with life, but very little of it was sentient. Strange, that of the few sentient forms I could sense, there was one meters away.

"You hear something?" the Mandalorian asked me.

"That way." I pointed in the direction that I sensed the lifeform.

"Let's go, then," Rian said, her lightsaber ignited.

I finally caught a glimpse of him as I rounded an enormous wroshyr trunk. Dancing among ravenous creatures, the man had a vibrant green lightsaber in his hands. When the creatures attacked, he cut them down in rapid succession with a chuckle. As his dark eyes found us, his face immediately soured.

"The damnable racket of battle!" he called out. "Watch yourself, even more of these crawling beasts are hiding in the underbrush."

"Who are you?" Rian demanded. "What are you doing here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm Jolee. Jolee Bindo. Follow me to my camp and we'll talk a bit."


	70. L'Eau de Wookiee

Mission:

Tell me to head back to the ship, did she? I didn't care what Rian's problem was, Big Z was family. Let them go into the Shadowlands without me; I couldn't just let Zaalbar rot.

I bit my lip. Big Z would be angry. He'd be mad that I was disobeying Rian, he'd be mad that I was going out on a foreign planet by myself and he'd be more than a little peeved about what I was about to do.

That Mandalorian dirt bag was smoking by the workbench. I couldn't be worried if I was angry. I tapped him on his arm.

"What do you want?" he barked.

I couldn't back down. "What kind of weapons do you have?"

"Most of my blasters are as tall as you. Why?"

"I want a couple blades," I said. "And a blaster. Nothing too fancy, but quiet. Can you do that?"

"Did Vega send you as her little slave girl?" Canderous asked.

"No." I scowled. "This is for me."

The Mandalorian grinned. "I'll see what I can do."

Bastard.

He replaced the hilt on a vibroblade to accommodate my smaller hand and gave me what looked like one of Carth's blasters. As I tested out the feel of the blade in my hands, he eyed me critically.

"You're missing something," he said.

"What?" I snorted. "An enemy to skewer?"

Canderous flicked his cigarra to the ground and crushed it with his boot. "No, you're too obvious," he replied. "There's no way you're going to outclass anyone on this planet in size. So you need an extra edge."

"It's called skill," I growled. "I have it."

"You and a third of the Republic army," Canderous said. "Stop being stupid."

"What's my edge, then?"

He took a moment to consider the situation before he spoke. "That blaster only gives off low grade sonic damage. An annoyance to you or me, but I'm sure it'd piss off a Wookiee or Cathar. So that blade's going to be your main weapon."

"And?"

Canderous bent down and pulled a large serrated knife from his boot. "Take this," he said. "Hide it in your boot, up your sleeve, in your cleavage, I don't care. Just somewhere it's not clearly visible, but easily accessible to you."

"Okay." I took the knife into my hands. It was large enough that I ran the risk of lobbing a breast off if I pulled it out of my cleavage wrong.

Canderous took a moment to give a demonstration. By the time I told him that Rian was expecting him down by the Czerka headquarters, I was confident in what angle I would use when gutting the average humanoid from throat to groin. Zaalbar was going to be so mad.

When Bastila stormed onto the Ebon Hawk, it looked like a garnant had crawled up her butt and decided to breed. Canderous took one look at her and left the ship.

"I'll be in my room, meditating," she said. "Maybe I can calm Rian that way."

I won't give names, but it sounded to me like somebody had just lost her mind. Whatever. That just meant that Bastila wouldn't be there to try and stop me.

I gathered my weapons and stealth generator. I took a second to practice slipping the knife in and out of my cleavage until I was convinced that I wouldn't kill myself while trying to use it. The only thing left to do was to track down Teethree and see if he'd want to keep me company.

The little droid was in the cargo hold. He seemed happy to see me, but he immediately turned down my suggestion.

"Why not?" I demanded.

As Teethree tooted, a small child shuffled out from behind a grain canister.

"You and Canderous have a daughter?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'll admit, Teethree, that's not exactly what I'd call a conventional relationship."

The astromech gurgled as the girl squealed and batted at him.

"Don't get me wrong," I said. "If you and the Mandalorian make each other happy, who am I to tell you that you two make a hideously deranged couple? I'll support you one hundred percent."

I slipped out of the cargo hold as fast as possible. Barf. I snickered at the thought of what would happen when Bastila found out about the little girl and her adoptive parents.

Bastila had locked herself away in one of the crew's cabins, so I had a clear path to the exit ramp. I flicked on my stealth generator immediately; Czerka could suck on a thermal detonator if they thought they were going to hassle me.

Down the ramp, past the slavers and through the gate. The kinrath seemed to sense that something was there, but they couldn't see me. I decided not to give myself away and held off on shooting the buggers.

So this was Big Z's home planet, was it? It looked much better than Ryloth. Not that I had actually ever been on Ryloth, but all the holo-vids I'd seen of the Twi'leki home world made it look so dreary. Maybe if Rian could fix everything, find her star thing, get Zaalbar to make up with all his Wookiee friends, maybe track down my brother, when everything was done Big Z and I could build a summer home here. A nice little breezy place in the trees and we'd play good music and eat greasy food.

At the gates to the Wookiee village, all the guards looked really peeved. As I watched them closely for a moment, it dawned on me that they could probably smell me. I should have thought of that. Maybe I could have pulled one of Zaalbar's belts out of the Ebon Hawk and rubbed myself with it.

As it was, I certainly didn't smell like l'eau de Wookiee. I smelled like Mission Vao. A potentially screwed Mission Vao.

I got angry. Or I panicked, I haven't quite decided. But I pulled out the sonic blaster and started shooting the gate guards. If they hadn't noticed me before, then there was no doubt anymore.

The big fur balls crumpled into heaps as they clawed at their ears. One point to Mission Vao, zero for the Wookiees.

I hopped over their hulking forms and into their village. Last I knew, Zaalbar was in the Chieftain's hut. I could remember roughly where it was, but you'd think the Wookiees would label their buildings or something.

"Hang in there, buddy." I flicked the stealth generator back on.

All I had to do was find the hut filled with humans. For a Chieftain, Chuundar must have felt really confident with his position to be flanked by Czerka slavers constantly.

I think what made me so angry was that Chuundar was Zaalbar's brother. Family was supposed to stick together, be there for one another. I mean, that's how it was with Griff and me.

Somehow, I knew I'd find my brother. Maybe it was because I finally had access to a ship, but the galaxy was only so big. Besides, knowing Griff, he'd be on a planet where there was easy money like Nar Shadaa or Corellia. One jingle of my purse and he'd find me in no time.

Griff would wait, Big Z was now. I hurried down the rickety walkways and headed towards the centermost hut. Inside, Big Z was sitting in a corner, his fingers laced together. I saw his nose twitch and his face sour. Yep, I'd be in trouble with him as soon as I got him out of there.

A couple slavers stalked around the hut like they were important. Armed, disabling their weapons was my top priority. The sonic blaster would be pretty worthless on humans, so I turned on the power cell to my vibroblade.

I caught one man along the blaster at his hips before my stealth generator gave way from all my movement. One down, one to go. Zaalbar was screaming mad. He started to roar as I hopped over to the next Czerka man.

Those animals had put a chain around Big Z's neck. Concentrate. The slaver had a huge vibrosword and I had to duck to avoid his swooping blow. I sprang back up and aimed for his armpit. He parried and I jumped away, putting some distance between us. I'd rescue Zaalbar and then everything would be okay.

"Well, aren't you a pretty specimen?" He was trying to bait me.

"Schutta." I swung for his groin. I missed, but it certainly killed the grin on his face.

"Feisty too." He moved slowly, cautiously.

"/Behind you/" Zaalbar?

I spun around in time to feel something stab into my shoulder. The slaver with the injured hip gave a quick chuckle from his spot on the floor. You'd think with a stun setting on blasters, slavers wouldn't have a need for drugged blow darts anymore. Crap.

I tried one final lunge at my attacker, but I don't think I hit him. If my vision hadn't been so blurry, I would have been certain. Zaalbar was screaming, but I couldn't see him. I think I scuffed my knees on the ground.

No, no, no! This wasn't happening. No way. Things like that happened to unprepared idiots and little kids. Babies.

It didn't matter. I just wanted Zaalbar safe. I had been worried about how angry my little rescue mission would make him, but he didn't sound mad. Fear was in his voice and I think I liked that even less.


	71. The Hermit

Jolee:

"Alright, old man, what the hell are you doing here?"

It was the dark haired one. Finger pointed fiercely at my chest, I could practically hear her teeth grinding. No discipline anymore, I had a feeling that she belonged to Vrook.

"Why am I here?" I chuckled. "Well it isn't because I like the stink of dead kinrath."

"No offense, but we don't have much time," the Republic soldier interrupted. That poor fool didn't look like he had the stomach for his companions' idea of fun. A damn shame too, the boy was wound tighter than the strings to a Hutt's purse.

"You'll have nothing but time if you don't take what help you can," I told him. "I've been here for many years and know things. Remember that my days of glory are behind me, but perhaps there is something I can do for you. You must have questions."

"Yeah, I've got questions," the dark haired one snarled. This is what the Jedi Order had come to? "Who do you think you are to drag us to some moldy, pissed on log stump? I've got important things to do; I don't have the time to waste on humoring some half-senile bastard."

Definitely a student of Vrook's. I was sure she wasn't without her charms. After all, she did look rather darling with her face all flushed in a livid fury. I was just pleased that she managed to be so snotty and alive despite the weight that she had to have carried.

"Rian, please," the Cathar spoke up. She turned her yellow eyes on me. "Have you any knowledge of Star Maps?"

I stifled my laughter. Careful, I had to know enough to interest them, but not so much as to make them suspicious. I forced a scowl to my face. "Now why would you be asking about a thing like that, hmm?" Agitation flared both from Rian and her Mandalorian friend. I had to play my cards right. "Don't answer. I knew that had to be why you were here. The problems of a few Wookiees don't amount to anything before the concerns of the Jedi. No, you are here for the Map."

"Get to the point, old man," Rian growled.

I took a chance and ruffled the girl's hair with my right hand. The moment it took for her mouth to fall open was time I spent retracting my hand safely. Rian glowered.

"Kashyyyk is an interesting place," I mused. "More so than anyone suspects. If Czerka Corporation knew, the planet would be a strip mine. The Wookiees have their legends that they were not always here, but it is more than that. The trees themselves are strangers."

"You are rambling, old man!" Rian bellowed. "Get to the point."

The soldier stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. The two shared a look before Rian grimaced out at him, but the child had settled down again.

I raised an eyebrow. "What I'm saying is that there are literally walls in your way and you won't find what you need without my help." I spoke slowly, annunciated clearly. "You must do a task for me and then allow me to join with you. I will then remove certain barriers in your path."

"The only barrier I see right now is a mouthy old coot," Rian grumbled.

I was curious as to how long that charade could continue. This was going to be very amusing. "Oh, save it," I snapped. "I know this sounds absurd, but I'm old and entitled to work you around a bit. Besides, the test is simple."

"What does this test entail?" the Cathar asked.

"I'm getting to it," I huffed. "Pushy, impatient lot. Since they began expanding in the Shadowlands, the Czerka have left me alone, for the most part. Until recently, anyway. A group of them set up camp not far from here. Poachers are all they are. I'd like them removed from this place."

The Mandalorian spoke up. "Why not just get rid of them yourself?"

"Don't talk back to your elders, child." I straightened my body up to its fullest height and stared him down. Fortunately, he appeared darkly amused behind his motionless features, but I knew if I kept pushing that one he would try to kill me. "Look, they know me quite well and are always on alert when I approach. The only way I could get rid of them would be violence, which would eventually lead to trouble for the Wookiees. I want them gone, but with as little fuss as possible. They have already caused enough trouble as it is."

"Why would you want to join up with us, anyway?" Rian asked.

"You presumably have a ship," I retorted, my eyes locked on hers. "I've seen all I wish to here. Isn't that enough? I mean, I'm really sick of the trees and perhaps your destiny might show me something new. You never know."

It's difficult to watch the strong ones fall. I could only imagine what Vrook's reaction to it was. What had the Jedi done to that child?

Rian looked ready to strangle me, a failing of hers; I could have kept at that game all day. The Cathar intercepted and forced a pleasant expression to her face. "We'll look into it," she promised.

The Cathar tugged on Rian's arm and the group shifted away from me. As soon as there was a safe distance between us, I began to follow them. I suppose I could have used the Force, sensed their intentions, what they were up to, but that always felt like cheating. Besides, I was old and if I didn't use my back and knees regularly, they'd probably stop working. For as powerful as most Jedi claim the Force to be, it sure as hell didn't do much for arthritis and tendonitis.

They found the poachers easy enough, though I would have expected better from a group that had two Force sensitives and a couple of trained soldiers. The girl, Rian, her energies were off. The anger was there, the fear and the passion, but it was encased in an ignorance that was so willful, I suspected it was voluntary. Maybe it was nothing, but it tugged at me curiously and I didn't like it.

Fortunately, Rian chose to sulk while the Cathar did all the talking. A little Force persuasion was all it took to retrieve the codes to the feeble-minded Czerka lackeys' equipment. Sonic transmitters that kept the Shadowlands' critters from Czerka. I was pleased that the Mandalorian began to disable the transmitters as soon as the Cathar relayed the codes, very efficient. But a part of me would have loved to watch the poachers' faces as katarn swarmed their camp indefinitely.

I slinked back to my camp and left the children to deal with the katarn. Freyyr had given me some jaar the last time I saw the old Wookiee. It was always refreshing to have something to drink besides water and the occasional blue milk, even if jaar was so thick and sweet I could feel my teeth rotting with each consecutive sip. I pulled the large wooden container of jaar out from behind a root as Rian's group joined me.

"Welcome back," I greeted. "I wonder, have you had much luck? Have you done as I asked?"

"The poachers are gone," Rian said.

"I could feel it as you walked near," I lied as I took a swig of jaar. "And I don't sense the smell of death on you. You spared them? Interesting."

"Enough," she snapped. "Have I passed your little test?"

Test? So that's what the Jedi had been doing. Testing to the point where lessons lost their meanings and students merely wanted to pass, not grow or learn. Very interesting.

"If you imagined a meaning behind it, I suppose that's good," I said. "But I don't think such a trivial thing is any real measure of a person."

"If you didn't care about the outcome, why have me do it?" Rian demanded.

I shrugged. "You were here and it needed doing."

The Cathar stepped in. "Will you help us find the Star Map now?" she asked.

"Hang on," the Republic soldier interrupted. "It's my comlink." He thumbed it. "This is Carth."

"Carth, this is Bastila." The woman on the other end sounded stressed through all the static.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Has Mission joined you?" Bastila asked. "I can't find her anywhere on the ship."

"No," Carth answered. "Where do you think she'd be?"

The Mandalorian spoke up. "You won't find her on the ship."

"You and I are going to have a lengthy discussion when you get back, Canderous." Every time a B occurred in Bastila's speech, the static caused an irritating pop. "I found your daughter and now you know something about Mission's disappearance."

"I don't have a daughter," Canderous said.

"Tell that to the droid," Bastila sniffed.

"Mission came on the ship and asked me for weapons," Canderous replied. "I obliged."

"That could mean anything," Carth said. "She could have tried to rescue Zaalbar."

"She could have been taken by slavers," the Cathar said.

"Damn it," Rian interrupted. "Bastila, it's your problem, you deal with it."

"I beg your pardon?" Bastila spluttered.

"We're stuck in the Shadowlands," Rian continued. "We have to save Zaalbar and find a Star Map. You and the tin can on wheels are the only two up there right now."

"We are going to have to talk when you return," Bastila said.

"It's a date." Rian walked over and flicked off Carth's comlink. "Let's go."


	72. To Die Free

Zaalbar:

"/Do not touch her/"

The Czerka slaver raised an eyebrow as he turned to my brother. "You should tighten the leash on your pet there, Chuundar."

"/By Bacca, I'll tear your throats out/" I warned.

"Well, I think we lucked out here," one slaver said to the other. "Young, beautiful and look at that coloring."

"Speak for yourself," his friend grumbled. "She didn't hit you with a vibroblade."

"It's just a flesh wound, weakling," the man scoffed. "I'll admit, she looks a bit young for my tastes, but maybe I'll keep her for myself. You know, raise her how I like them."

"/You'll do no such thing/" I roared. As I lunged towards the humans, the collar bit into my neck. The coward stepped out of my reach.

"What did I tell you, Chuundar?" he demanded.

My brother raised a hand. "/Easy, friends/" he said. "/Why all the fuss over an alien girl, Zaalbar/"

"/That child is part of my honor family/" I growled.

"/But Zaalbar/" Chuundar chided. "/You have no honor. Have you forgotten that you're nothing but a madclaw/"

"/She is my cub/" I snarled. "/My child. More flesh to me than you. I will not sit and watch slavers take her./"

Chuundar smirked. "/Dear brother, you are not in a position to decide these things./"

"/Says the fool who's a Czerka puppet/" I barked. "/My honor lies in her safety. Harm her and I'll destroy you, weapons, claws or blood./"

"/I am no puppet./" Chuundar smirked over clenched teeth. "/Leave the alien alone./"

"You can't demand that," the Czerka man said. "I found and apprehended her."

"/Any resource found in this village belongs to the Chieftain/" Chuundar replied. "/Me. Do you wish to steal from me/"

"If she belongs to the Chieftain, then she belongs to the Chieftain." The man sneered. "But I expect a finder's fee."

"/You found nothing/" Chuundar said. "/Zaalbar found her and she came for Zaalbar. You try my patience./"

"Forget it," the injured man reasoned. "It's not worth it. We don't even know if she'll wake up."

"/What do you mean/" I demanded.

"Chuundar, are you really going to make us put up with this?" the slaver spat.

"/Answer my guest's question/" Chuundar said.

"Guest?" The slaver chuckled. "Whatever you say."

He straightened himself and cleared his throat dramatically. "Guest of Chuundar, our darts are designed for Wookiees. That girl there's a Twi'lek, not that you could actually pronounce the word, 'Twi'lek.' She's much smaller than your average Wookiee for one and for two, her anatomy's completely different. Maybe she'll wake up in five minutes, a couple hours, maybe she won't."

I gathered Mission's limp form into my arms. Her skin was warm and her breathing, while slow, was regular.

"/Your lives will be forfeit if she doesn't wake/" I promised.

"You know," the slaver commented. "You bastards looked much cuddlier when I couldn't understand a damn word that left your mouths."

"/Chuundar, get them out of here now or I will kill them/" I snarled.

"/Control yourself, reckless one/" Chuundar snapped. He took a pleasant face for his Czerka men. "/Gentlemen, as you can see, Zaalbar is a bit irritable right now. Would you excuse the two of us, so we could talk in private/"

"Yeah, I could use a smoke," the slaver muttered.

"I could use a medic," his friend complained. "If that's not too much trouble."

"Trouble enough to have me toss you into the Shadowlands," the other man cracked. "Come on, useless."

The injured man slung his arm over the other slaver's shoulders. Between the two of them they managed to get the injured one standing and then proceeded to half limp, half drag him out of the hut.

"/You seemed so adverse to foreigners all those years ago/" Chuundar murmured. "/What made you change your mind about this girl/"

"/It was never foreigners I was against, it was slavers/" I growled.

"/You always did see things in black and white, didn't you, brother/" Chuundar rumbled.

"/I have more important things to worry about right now/" I roared.

I pulled Mission in tightly against me, pressed her head against my heart. Not a whimper, not a scream, nothing. Make her comfortable. I shifted her frame in my arms as I sat, gave her enough room to breathe.

"/I would appreciate it if you'd lend her a blanket/" I said.

"/I'll send for one/" Chuundar replied. He stepped out of the hut and left me alone.

She was still alive. The thought did little to console me. I still wanted to kill those Czerka scum regardless of whether or not Mission would regain consciousness. She would regain consciousness. She had to.

I never wanted to return to Kashyyyk. My past was my humiliation, Rian had no right to drag me back to face anything and how dare she suck Mission into it? Let me burn, hate myself, be miserable; I was used to it. But hurt my child?

My selfish worth had been measured in the moment I stood by and watched them poison her.

Chuundar returned with a blanket and I forced myself to stop thinking. As soon as the rough material was in my hands, I wrapped Mission snugly and cradled her like a babe. All I needed to do was keep her close to me, keep her at ease.

As I held her, I felt a foreign hardness dig into my ribs. Along Mission's breastbone, it was too solid to be flesh. Whatever the child was holding, it must have been jabbing into her sternum. I pushed the blanket aside and patted down her vest. A handle and a blade.

"/What are you doing, Zaalbar/" Chuundar asked.

"/Checking her heartbeat/" I snapped.

"/Our healers know nothing about Twi'leks/" Chuundar rumbled. "/I would have called one if it were otherwise./"

"/Yet you did nothing to stop those slaving hounds from attacking her in the first place/" I said.

"/Zaalbar, I'm not trying to argue with you./" Chuundar sighed. "/I don't like the animosity between us. I'm trying to talk to you./"

"/Says the Wook who had me banished in the first place./" I bared my teeth. "/Why should I believe you, Master of Lies/"

"/Because I am Chieftain and I am trying to do what's best for my people/" Chuundar roared.

"/By betraying them to Czerka/" I demanded. "/Chuundar, are you blind/"

"/I know what I have done./" Chuundar stopped abruptly and took a calming breath. "/What I have done to the few enslaved Wookiees is reprehensible and for that I would gladly let you cut out my heart at judgment, but Czerka came to Kashyyyk, Zaalbar, we didn't invite them here./"

"/So we meekly submit and let them take our strongest, our brightest/" I growled.

"/They don't take our strongest/" Chuundar replied. "/Healthy, yes. But not our strongest. I oversee, let them take some so that the rest can thrive in peace. Would you rather we fight and all be slaughtered/"

"/Better to die free/" I insisted.

"/If that child in your arms dies, she will have died free/" Chuundar said. "/Is that the fate you wish on her/"

I didn't answer for a long time.


	73. Worry Over

Carth:

"There, you see? Beautifully subtle, isn't it?"

For a Jedi, I thought Jolee Bindo was alright. He liked to yammer quite a bit, but he knew when to yammer, when to work and when it was okay to work and yammer at the same time.

"At least, compared to the other Czerka equipment dumped down here," the old Jedi continued. "It's only been here a short while or the Wookiees would have disabled it. They wouldn't have an easy time of it, though."

Rian cut straight to the point. "Have you gone past it before?"

I didn't like it. She had just shut down, closed herself off. What really got me was how she just brushed off Mission's disappearance as Bastila's problem.

It struck a nerve. Maybe my son vanishing years ago was my problem, but I had gotten help every step of the way. Whether it was something simple, like posting his face all over the holo-net or something riskier, like a classified document regarding Telos slipped into my datapad, it mattered.

Maybe I was just bitter. After the first year, all the "Dustil's fine, we just have to find him" pomp had turned into "Maybe he died when Telos was bombed, Carth." I still hadn't found him, regardless of whether it was because he was a prisoner or if he was lying in an unmarked grave or if he simply decided to hitch to the other side of the galaxy.

I desperately hoped that it was the last choice.

"Yes, I've gone through it," Jolee replied. "But I don't make a habit of it. The other side is genuinely dangerous."

"But you can get past it," Rian pressed. "You said so."

A part of me wanted to scream, slap some sense into her, anything. Instead I just stood there, a damn idiot, sucking in a numbness that didn't fit with the humid air.

"I can manipulate it for a moment," Jolee said. He walked over towards a console by the force field and punched in a seven digit code. "We've got thirty seconds to cross."

Rian wasted no time and was the first one over. Canderous was followed by Juhani and Jolee trailed after me. The first thing I caught sight of was a dead Wookiee sprawled out against the underbrush of a massive tree stump. The alien's fur was able to conceal the majority of its injuries in a mass of matted hair and clotted blood, but the stakes pinning its body to the ground was a blatant warning to trespassers. The evenly spaced Wookiee heads surrounding the corpse only added to the ambiance. Nice.

"Worthless kriffing trash," Canderous growled as he stormed towards the grisly scene.

"What's going on?" I took a step forward.

"Stay back," Canderous called over his shoulder. "There's plasma mines in each skull."

"How does he know that?" I asked.

"Because his people have done this," Juhani answered quietly.

"But this is Kashyyyk," I said. "What are Mandalorians doing on Kashyyyk?"

"They appear to be hunting and slaughtering," Juhani replied.

I held in a groan and settled for gnashing my teeth. I could vaguely remember a similar story during the Mandalorian Wars. Flayed bodies of Republic soldiers were left as a gruesome monument dangling from the trees. When other soldiers moved to retrieve their friends for proper burials, they were also blown to bits. It made a sick sort of sense and I didn't like it.

Canderous continued to disassemble the trap. Finished, the Mandalorian stood, tossed the defused mines at our feet and lit a cigarra.

"I have to go," he said. "I'll meet you back at the ship later."

"We have a mission to accomplish," Rian said, her voice clipped. "And more problems that seem to be spilling out every time a comlink goes off and you want to just leave to do whatever the hell you feel like?"

"It's your mission to accomplish, not mine," Canderous replied. "Now, I've just noticed another problem that's spilled out. I'm going to take care of it. Keep armed at all times or you'll be dead, they've got stealth generators."

And he just walked away. I winced as Rian swore.

"Everything alright?" Jolee raised an eyebrow.

Rian muttered something in a language I couldn't decipher before she faced the group. "Everyone else fine with continuing?" she asked.

Both Jolee and Juhani met her glare with steady gazes. I couldn't take it any longer.

"I'm worried about Mission," I said.

"And?" A quick flash of impatience, then nothing.

I swallowed the bile rising in the back of my throat. "We're not going to do anything for her?"

She blinked once and stepped towards me. When Rian was close enough for me to feel her breath on the front of my jacket, she stopped. Her voice was low. "What would you have me do?"

"She's just a kid," I argued.

"What would you have me do?" Rian repeated. "Do you want me to send you back through the Shadowlands by yourself so that you can look for her? If you manage to get back to the upper levels without becoming some creature's lunch, how much time will you have wasted? And that's a very big if, Carth. What if you get hurt down here by yourself?"

"So we just abandon her?" I demanded. "That's disgusting."

"Is it?" Rian asked. "Zaalbar's in trouble and I have to help him. There's a Star Map down here and I need to find it. Canderous just walked off and who knows what's going to happen to him and now you want to head off in a completely different direction? I don't even know if Mission's in trouble or if she's just bored and wasting time somewhere."

"I have a really bad feeling about it," I said.

Bad move. Why couldn't I just voice my concerns in a calm, respectful manner, have her listen, nod and reply? I recognized that look, it was identical to the one I received back on Taris when she blew up over my not trusting anyone. Big things like Wookiees could get killed in the Shadowlands and I was too stupid to know how to keep things from escalating. And Rian? Rian was insane.

"And what are you going to do about it?" she exploded. "What do you want me to do about it? A suggestion would be nice."

I couldn't believe that the Jedi Council would put her in charge of anything. I sighed. "I don't know."

"Are you coming with me?" Rian asked as she turned away. "I'm going to find this Star Map, then I'm going to kill Chuundar. Everything else, I'll worry about later."

"And that's it?" All I wanted was to remain calm, rational. "I don't agree with this. Would you just abandon me or Bastila or anybody else if it delayed finding a Star Map?"

"Alright, Carth," I hated how she made my name sound like an obscenity. "Let's drop everything. Forget Zaalbar, let's go track down Mission."

"I never said to forget Z—"

"Pick one."

"What?"

"I said pick one," Rian snarled. "Mission or Zaalbar? Which one's more valuable? Who's worth more to you?"

"Valuable?" I spluttered. "They're not tools."

"No they're not," she hollered. "But we know that Zaalbar's alive and we know where he is. We don't know anything about Mission until we hear back from Bastila!"

An invisible hand reached out and slammed my mouth shut. Rian shared my shock, her mouth also frozen. Jolee Bindo stepped between us.

"This is the Shadowlands," he hissed. "What kind of things do you think you'll attract screeching like that?"

He released our jaws. Juhani shook her head.

"If you two are done wasting time," she said. "I'm ready to follow Jolee Bindo to the Star Map."

Rian trudged towards the others. I was just a soldier; I was supposed to follow orders. It didn't make me feel any better. If Mission wasn't okay when we found her, I didn't think I'd be able to live it down.

I followed after the group.

"Rian, you don't really intend to kill Chuundar, do you?" Juhani asked as she sidestepped a bush.

"He took Zaalbar," Rian replied.

"You are a Jedi," Juhani said. "Those thoughts are of the Dark Side."

Rian didn't answer.

"If it comes to that, I won't let you kill him," Juhani said.

"You going to stop me?" Rian smirked.

"You saved me…" Juhani faltered. "I owe you that much at least."

"You owe me nothing," Rian muttered.

"I decide what I owe and to whom," Juhani said. She turned to Jolee. "How much farther to the Star Map?"

"We're almost there," the old man promised.

I tried to concentrate on the scenery. Even if there wasn't that force field blocking my way, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to find my way out of the Shadowlands if Jolee Bindo was killed or decided to disappear. Just one more thing to worry over. I glanced at the chronometer in my pocket and groaned; it would be a long time until dark.


	74. Obstinate Machine

Rian:

I could vaguely remember recommending that we head to Kashyyyk first. What the hell was I thinking? Stupid, muggy, disease-infested, buggy muck-hole of a backwater planet.

And then there was Zaalbar. If I had to kill every last Wookiee on the planet to get to him, I would. Then I'd kick his ass. He had no right to flaunt that life-debt garbage, only to turn around, hoist me out of that damned Wookiee village by the scruff of my neck and then just let himself be taken prisoner. Not even a fight. We could have won.

Carth was staring too directly at the wrinkled flap of skin at the base of Jolee Bindo's skull. He was avoiding me. Good. If he said one more thing about Mission, I don't think I'd be able to take it.

What the hell did they expect me to do, anyway? It was bad enough with the numbers I had that I had to split the group up. Then Mission decided to vanish without a word to anyone and then Canderous disappears on some convoluted honor slaughter hunt.

I fully intended to splatter his brains all over a wroshyr tree if one of his fellow Mandalorians hadn't beaten me to it.

The computer tucked away in the Shadowlands that Jolee Bindo led us to didn't appear to be all that impressive. A rusted out piece of trash was more like it. Bindo walked up to it and kicked it.

The kick activated a hologram of a strange looking alien. "Life forms detected. Determining parameters. Initiating neural recognition."

"Yes, there's the thing," Bindo huffed. "Obstinate machine. I've no doubt it holds what you seek, but good luck getting it operational."

"Primary neural recognition complete," the hologram continued. "Preliminary match found."

That pissed the old man off. "Match found?" Bindo demanded. "What the… it always muttered something about 'rejected patterns' for me."

"It must have good taste," I said.

No one laughed.

"Begin socialized interface," the hologram said. "Awaiting instruction. Greetings. This terminal has not been accessed for quite some time."

"Rian, I would like you to ask the terminal why it acknowledged you, when it's disregarded Jolee Bindo in the past," Juhani said.

I obliged. "Right. Why have you acknowledged me?"

"Error."

Sith spit.

"Subject displays unfamiliarity to environment," the hologram prattled. "Behavioral reconfiguration will be needed before access. I am sorry, I did not mean to confuse you. I will answer questions to the best of my programming limitations."

"What the hell do you mean by behavioral reconfiguration?" I asked.

"I have been programmed with a very limited field of knowledge and I must restrict access to only those that fit my allowed pattern," the hologram replied.

"You've gotten farther than I ever have, kiddo," Bindo said. "Don't blow it."

I ignored him. "And I don't fit that pattern?"

"I can't say," the hologram said. "Preliminary matching allows for you to be coached."

"Do you not know why or are you restricted from saying?" I tried not to sigh.

"I can't say," it answered. "Likelihood of restriction by previous user, 100."

"Beautiful," I muttered. "I think we're going to have to tear this thing apart piece by piece."

"The Star Map," Juhani urged. "Ask it about the Star Map."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled. "Star Map. Know anything about it or can't you say?"

"Assessing." The hologram flashed out.

"Did it break?" I ran a hand through my hair. It was getting shaggy around the ears. Stupid Kashyyyk. "Crap."

"It said it was assessing," Juhani said.

The hologram reappeared. "Yes, I have found a Star Map in original system memory. Access is restricted."

"What do I need to do to get access to the Star Map?" I crossed my arms. The installation had already convinced me to tear it apart piece by piece, I just wanted to get the information I needed first.

"Your request requires additional security access," the hologram replied. "You must be made to match the parameters I have been supplied."

I didn't like the look the old man was giving me. He knew something. I'd tear him apart too if I needed.

"How can I match them when I don't know what they are?" I demanded.

"There are measures available," the hologram said. "Personality profiling will verify the basic structure of your conscious mind. With that, I will determine whether you are ready to receive the Star Map or can be made ready."

"Great," I said. "This personality profiling doesn't involve a lobotomy or anything, does it?"

"Information unavailable."

"Lovely." I sighed. "Let's get this over with."

"Evaluation commencing." The hologram flashed out and I heard the computer whirring. It sounded like some Shadowlands muck had crept inside its casing. "Results will be compared against the pattern in memory. Just act as you should.

"You travel with a Wookiee and have encountered complications. Hypothetical: you and this Zaalbar are captured and separated. If you both remain silent, one year in prison for each of you. However, call Zaalbar a traitor and he will serve five years, while you serve none. He is offered the same deal, but if you both accuse the other, you both serve two years. What do you do?"

"How do you know Zaalbar's name?" I demanded.

"I hear what happens on Kashyyyk and a good deal beyond. Answer the question I have posed."

"How come I have to answer your questions when you don't answer mine?" I kicked it. "Stupid piece of junk."

"Answer the question I have posed," the hologram repeated.

"You answer the damn question!" I scowled. "You know about Kashyyyk and a good deal beyond, you should know the answer."

"Answer the question I have posed."

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to Jolee Bindo shaking his head. "You're trying to argue with a machine," he said. "It's following a specific programming. You can't change that."

"Just answer the question," Carth groaned.

The answer was easy; it was a simple math problem. Getting off free was better than one year, two years were better than five. But that was Zaalbar, not some nameless equation. He had a face and a hairy, belligerent ass that I needed to beat.

So I lied.

"I trust Zaalbar," I said. "I would say nothing and neither would he."

"Your loyalty is dangerous," the hologram stated.

"So are my fists," I growled.

"Zaalbar's family is mired in treachery," the hologram continued. "What loyalty do they know?"

"He swore a life-debt," I argued. "He meant it."

"Your answer is incorrect," the hologram said.

"The choice is mine and I refuse to alter it," I said.

"You cannot refuse," the hologram replied. "Evaluation must continue. You must match the pattern in memory. Your memory. I must demand honest acceptance of the proper behavior. That is the condition of my programming."

I sighed. "I can't do this. Let's just go get Zaalbar."

"And what will that accomplish?" Juhani asked.

"This is an important mission, isn't it?" Carth kept his eyes on his blaster as he replaced the charge in it.

"Have you heard back from Bastila yet?" I asked.

"No."

"Once we get done with the Shadowlands, the first thing we'll do is track down Mission," I told him. "Will that make you happy?"

"Happy?" Carth blinked. "No, that won't make me happy. I won't be happy until I know she's alive and well, until I've given her a lecture about how stupid taking off was, until I lock her in the crews' quarters until she's thirty. Hell, why don't we throw in Malak's burning corpse while we're at it and a restoration effort for all the planets bombed in recent years?"

Juhani tugged on Carth's arm and began whispering words for his ears only. I turned back to the computer. "Continue the evaluation."

"The previous incorrect answer will be discounted," the hologram said. "Future incorrect responses will result in rejection.

"Hypothetical: You are at war. Deciphering an intercepted code, you learn two things about your enemy. A single spot in their defense will be at its weakest in ten days and they will attack one of your cities in five days. What do you do with this information? What is the most efficient course of action?"

I paused. That information sounded familiar. I think it was from that one time I did a spice run in Hutt Space with a couple of old soldiers. History was boring unless things were blown up. Carth had taken his arm back from Juhani to better suspiciously watch things.

"I prepare my forces to attack in ten days," I said. "I do nothing in the city."

"Very good," the hologram said. "If you had moved to evacuate the city, you would have alerted the enemy to their lost codes."

"You mean you'd just let all those people die?" Carth asked. "That's monstrous."

I didn't bother looking back, I was sure it wasn't just Carth. I could practically imagine Juhani's disappointed eyes boring holes into the back of my skull. Too many people sensitive about blown up home worlds.

"Ultimate victory required the deaths of the people in that city," the hologram stated. "You wisely ignored sentiment in your decision."

It was time to save face. "Victory is irrelevant," I said. "Stopping the war saved many more people."

"You achieved the proper result with logic that does not match the pattern in memory," the hologram said. "I shall adjust my evaluation.

"Hypothetical: Remove the ongoing war from the previous example. Consider enemy states to be weak and remote. With no external threat your empire stagnates. Your people become complacent and begin to question you. Same scenario as before; you discover an impending attack, but also a weakness that will come after. How do you react?"

"By disassembling you and taking the Star Map," I decided.

"Implied threat matches the pattern in memory," the hologram remarked. "But the subject has failed to demonstrate required recognition. Access denied. Defense mode initiated."

Laser turrets and a couple of war droids. I would have thought that droids would have appeared anything but inconspicuous in a place like Kashyyyk, but they must have been tucked behind some tree stump or something. For ancient machines, their blasters sure as hell hadn't rusted out.

Duck, roll, dodge, dodge. I had a lightsaber, I would have thought that it'd be the easiest thing to use. Juhani didn't seem to have any trouble using her lightsaber, neither did the old man. Even Carth, as Force sensitive as a pile of ferrocrete, was able to find cover and place a couple well-aimed blaster shots. I got a blaster burn along my calf for my trouble before Bindo decapitated the war droid coming after me.

_You're not even trying._

If that was Bastila in my head again, I'd throttle her. Kick, thrust, sidestep, make it a primal grunt, not some girly squeal. The remaining droid was slow, so all I had to do was run like hell, dip under its outstretched arm, aim my lightsaber for its armpit and then watch as Juhani decimated it. I didn't like feeling useless.

"I'm trying, damn it." I shifted the lightsaber in my hand and deflected a blaster bolt back at the laser turret. It missed.

If I could have concentrated, taken a moment to gather my thoughts, maybe I would have been able to react better. Just taken a deep breath, moved to cover and gone from there. No, I stood there irritated and surly while the turret powered up another shot.

Screw that.

It tickled. A million needlelike fingers starting in my chest, moving up to my neck and dancing down my arms. Exploding out of my fingers. That's what power tasted like, metallic in the back of my throat.

The old man was expressionless. Carth seemed to be battling between amazement and paranoia; paranoia won out as soon as he caught the look on Juhani's face. The turrets were destroyed, apparently that wasn't good enough.

The hologram reappeared. "Neural scan complete," it said. "It would appear initial assumptions about you were incorrect. Secondary scans during battle have revealed much. Under duress, your emotions were easier to read. Programming now instructs that I give you what you seek."

"What did your scan during the battle reveal?" I swallowed the feeling away.

"That information is not available," the hologram replied. "Soon you will recognize the proper course to follow. The Star Map is yours. This unit has now completed its primary duty and has finished with the subject. Executing final action. Activation of Star Map commencing."

The hologram flitted out and in its place, a Star Map appeared. Decayed and incomplete like the first one, fortunately this map's deterioration started over Tatooine. Carth flipped open his datapad and began to record the new information.

"Well, well," Bindo mused. "So this is a Star Map. An ancient artifact of Dark Side power. Can't say I'm surprised. I always knew there was something down here. I wonder if the Star Map has had an effect on the evolution of the creatures here in the Shadowlands. Might explain why it's so dangerous down here. An interesting theory, but I suppose we don't have time to test it now, do we?"

"Help me tear this thing apart," I said. "We could have the droid look at it, maybe figure something out. At the very least, no one else will stumble across it."

"Rian." Juhani's voice was soft, hesitant. "I would like to speak with you. The next time you have a free moment, perhaps?"

"I can't say when that will be," I said as I tore off a piece of the computer's casing. "But sure."

"Make time," Juhani urged. "It's very important that we discuss things."

"Promise," I replied. "Later."

"So, we have the Star Map." Bindo scratched his moustache. "What now?"

"You still tagging along?" I asked. "Make yourself useful and hold this." I tossed a computer part over my shoulder.

"I'm certain whatever comes out of your ship's food synthesizer still tastes better than tach," the old man replied. "Have you ever eaten tach?"

"We're going to haul this back the Hawk," I said. "And check up on Bastila's progress with Mission. Depending on what Bastila says, we go after Mission or the crazy Wookiee down here."

"Crazy Wookiee, huh?" Bindo smirked. "That wouldn't happen to be Freyyr, would it?"

"How would I know?" I said. "All we were told was to get the crazy Wookiee in exchange for Zaalbar."

"Interesting," Bindo remarked.

"Quiet!" Carth called out. "I just got hold of Bastila on the com. She's got information on Mission."


	75. Answer For

Bastila:

Never in my entire life had I been more afraid. Had it been a Sullustan diplomat, a krayt dragon or even the ghost of an ancient Sith Lord, I would have been calm, collected, prepared to do what I must.

I almost screamed. It came out a shrill gasp, enough to unsettle it. I didn't scream, but it did. Quite a bit, actually. Enough for any semblance of the Jedi Code to slip right through my fingers.

I wanted peace. There was no peace to be had at all, not with that shrieking mynock.

Two large, damp, brown eyes. That's what it was, wailing as I lifted it out of a supplies canister. As filthy as it was, it was difficult to conclude that it was indeed a human child. A female human child. Those were ratty pigtails, not lekku; her teeth, although painful when she bit me, weren't fangs. And it wasn't some strange, alien secretion, she had soiled herself several times over.

Fortunately, the astromech droid had the innate ability to calm the child. But that certainly led to new questions.

"Her name is Sasha?"

T3-M4 bleated.

"Yes, yes." I nodded. "Calm down, Sasha. I'm not going to hurt you."

Sasha screeched and tried to kick me. I nearly dropped her. As the child began to slap at my face, T3-M4 attempted to relax her. It didn't seem to be working.

"No, I don't think a trank is a good suggestion," I snapped at the droid before turning back to the terror in my arms. "Please, sweetheart. It's alright, I promise. I just want to get you washed up. I'm angry at T3-M4, not you."

Sasha continued to struggle and I pinned her arms to her chest in a hug. Her legs flailed madly, sometimes connecting with my thigh or hip, sometimes missing completely. I shook my head and as delicately as possible, wrapped her lower body up in the Force. She resorted to head butting me in the chest until exhausted, her head collapsed against my breast.

"You said this was your daughter?" I asked.

T3-M4 whistled.

"You have a lot to answer for." I headed towards the refresher.

The sonic shower wasn't built for a child, so I went over to the crude little sink. Hands full, a telekinetic push was used to start the water. T3-M4 had followed us to the door, but he was torn between concern for the child and his programming that made him wary around water of any sort.

"I have no intention to harm her," I told the droid. "But I'm sure she'd look, smell and feel better after a bath. I'm interested to see what she'd look like without all the dirt, snot, ash… and is that blood?"

Sasha had taken to whimpering as I telekinetically lifted her to eyelevel. Right above a yellowed grass stain on her cheek was a splatter that was definitely dried blood. "What have you been through, child?" I asked.

T3-M4 bleeped as he began to roll back and forth outside the door.

"I don't care that it's not her blood," I replied. "She's covered in it. Look, there's more in her ear, across her neck and arms."

The droid disappeared around a corridor, muttering as it went. I sighed and turned back to Sasha. I telekinetically forced her arms apart, which started her screaming anew. I stripped her of her tattered clothes as quickly and painlessly as possible and set her in the water. A bit cold, but these weren't ideal circumstances.

T3-M4 had raced back to where we were.

"I'm not doing anything wrong," I said. "The water's just a bit chilly. Why don't you do me a favor and explain how this child ended up on the Ebon Hawk."

Sasha kicked water at me. T3-M4 shrieked and hurried away.

"Thanks for the help!" I called after him. I grabbed some soap and the nearest limb.

It wasn't how I envisioned the day would proceed. I still hadn't meditated, I could only imagine what Rian was doing.

If I couldn't track down Sasha's real parents, I didn't know what I'd do. Leave her with the masters on Dantooine sounded like a potential solution. I scrubbed at her face until the caked mud gave way to rosy cheeks. Clean, she was a perfectly healthy, churlish little girl, although she had a dark scar along her inner thigh. When I tried to examine it, she started to squirm and grab at my hair.

"Hush," I urged. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

I wish I had some candy or something to distract her with. The child behaved like I was torturing her, there were nerfs that were more pleasant than this.

The scar was too intricate to be an accident. Some strange symbol surrounded by a band. "Who did that to you?" I murmured.

Sasha stared silently, like a trapped animal.

"Off you go." I set her back down on the floor. Immediately, she took off running, naked. There were worse things in the galaxy.

I'd have to find her some clean clothes that fit before the crew got back.

There were more important things to worry about. I could still feel Rian's anger, if I could somehow make it ebb through the bond, then I'd be able to relax just a little. In the distance, Sasha had found T3-M4 and began to emulate to the best of her ability the numerous beeps the droid was making.

"T3-M4." I walked down the corridor and forced my hands to my sides, away from my temples. "Go get Mission, will you? I think she'd be a good influence on Sasha."

The droid's optical receptor dimmed for a moment, then he started to creep away from me.

"Don't you dare run away from me," I said. "What's wrong?"

T3-M4 gibbered as he rolled back and forth.

"Gone?" I demanded. "Where?"

He offered a low whistle before he sped away.

I shook my head. That type of nonsense had no place in an important mission. The only fortunate thing about Sasha running amuck nude was that she didn't soil her clothing when she sporadically decided to relieve herself along the corridors. That droid had better clean up after her, or else.

Mission was nowhere to be found. In neither dormitories; the medical bay and garage were also suspiciously vacant. T3-M4 had made himself scarce.

I retrieved my comlink from the cockpit and thumbed it on. "Is anyone there?"

"This is Carth."

"Carth, this is Bastila." I gave an agitated tug to one of my braids.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Has Mission joined you?" I didn't like the pause that followed, so I added, "I can't find her anywhere on the ship."

"No." I counted three beats before Carth continued. "Where do you think she'd be?"

The Mandalorian's voice sounded distant when he spoke through the static. "You won't find her on the ship."

"You and I are going to have a lengthy discussion when you get back, Canderous," I snapped. "I found your daughter and now you know something about Mission's disappearance."

"I don't have a daughter," Canderous replied.

"Tell that to the droid," I said.

"Mission came on the ship and asked me for weapons." It grated how the Mandalorian made it sound like I was inconveniencing him. "I obliged."

Carth shared my frustration. "That could mean anything. She could have tried to rescue Zaalbar."

"She could have been taken by slavers."

Rian's voice cut through it all. "Damn it! Bastila, it's your problem, you deal with it."

"I beg your pardon?" I demanded.

"We're stuck in the Shadowlands," Rian said. "We have to save Zaalbar and find a Star Map. You and the tin can on wheels are the only two up there right now."

"We are going to have to talk when you return," I insisted.

"It's a date." The static of the com cut off abruptly.

I rubbed idly at the back of my neck as I left the cockpit. "T3-M4, take care of things here. I'm going to try and track down Mission."

The droid replied with a frantic toot, followed by a squeal from Sasha. Served him right.

I tucked my comlink into my belt and checked that my lightsaber was secure. As I left, I locked the Ebon Hawk up, hastily adding a code to the ramp. No good would come of it if Czerka managed to get onboard my ship.

I headed directly to Czerka's headquarters on Kashyyyk. Immediately, I was informed by a protocol droid that Janos was at a meeting and not to be disturbed. More than likely the Ithorian was simply through with my "Jedi meddling."

"Is there anyone else that I could speak with?" I asked. "It's important."

"I'm afraid that my superiors are indisposed at the moment," the droid said. "Do you have a message that you wish for this unit to record?"

"No," I replied. "I'm more than happy to wait."

"There is no telling when my superiors will be available," the droid said. "A recorded message is highly recommended. That way, a Czerka representative can get back to you at their leisure."

"As lovely as that sounds, this isn't a leisurely visit." I adjusted a strand of hair on my forehead. "I will see someone today."

"Attempting to patch you through." Its optical receptors dimmed. "I am sorry. All representatives are unavailable. Janos himself has suggested that this unit contact security if you continue to protest."

"I don't mean to cause you or Czerka any problems." It wasn't me; Rian's anger was mingling with my own emotions. That it felt comfortable there was unsettling. "But it's imperative that I speak with someone as soon as possible. If that means I have to wait until someone is available, then that's what I'll do."

"It is suggested that you make use of the recorded message that was offered," the droid said. "Please do not force this unit to call security."

"That's a little unreasonable, don't you think?" I asked.

"This unit is not programmed to think, only to obey its superiors," the droid replied.

"Absolutely ludicrous," I muttered.

"B4-D2, stand down." An older man entered, shaking his head at the droid. "Honestly, not everyone is out to get us."

"This unit was only behaving as it should," B4-D2 said.

"Go into standby mode or I'll schedule a memory wipe," the man commanded.

"Understood," B4-D2 replied. "Shutting systems down now."

"Sorry about that." He offered me his hand. "Those protocol droids aren't programmed with enough brains to tell the difference between a threat and a touchy door console."

"No trouble at all." I reached out and shook his hand. "I take it you work here?"

"That I do." He grinned. "Phenn. Jordo Phenn. You are?"

"Vega," I lied. "Rian Vega."

"Well, Ms. Vega," he said. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I arrived on Kashyyyk earlier this morning," I explained. "To collect samples of the natural flora and fauna. Just simple research for a class I've been teaching. Unfortunately I lost track of one of my students."

"Missing student?" Jordo frowned. "That doesn't sound good. You didn't go into the Shadowlands or anything, did you?"

"Not at all," I replied. "But we did go beyond the gates."

"Were you informed that Edean is mostly wild?" he asked. "There are kinrath, among other things just outside the gates. I don't want to upset you, but there's a high possibility that your student is dead."

"She's proven to be quite resourceful in the past, so I don't want to believe that just yet," I said. "My main concern, however, is that Czerka has an investment in the slave trade on this planet."

"How does that apply to your student?" Jordo asked.

"She's a teenaged Twi'lek," I replied.

"Oh." Jordo took a seat behind a desk and motioned for me to join him. "That could be problematic."

"Could she have been taken into custody by some of your men?" I asked.

"That's always a possibility," Jordo answered. "Does she have any papers on her?"

"Only slave owners carry papers, correct?" I said. "So why would she have any papers?"

"You know," Jordo chuckled and began to drum the desktop with his fingers. "Maybe you should come back and speak with Janos later. He'd know more about it than me."

I immediately grappled for his mind with the Force. "You're hesitant," I murmured. "You have nothing to fear from me, I'm only concerned about my student."

Jordo's eyes glazed over slightly. "Sometimes I wonder if I divulge too much," he said. "Czerka Corporation does have a very nice pension."

"This is between you and me." Just a little influence. Sometimes it was necessary, I could have always torn the information I needed from his head, but that was just barbaric. "I have no quarrel with Czerka, I just want to know the best way to find my student."

"If you have or can find legitimate papers claiming ownership of your Twi'lek, she'd be much easier to reclaim that way than arguing that she was free if she really was picked up by a slave cartel," Jordo said. "One way, you're arguing with papers, the other way, you're arguing without. Of course, if you do have papers, depending on how valuable they view her, they'll try to buy you out. And from what I'm told, they can be very persuasive."

"So can I," I said.

A comlink on the desk beeped and Jordo blinked. I relinquished my influence on the man and quietly watched him.

"Phenn here."

"Jordo, do us a favor and have a medic team ready when we get in," the man on the other end said.

"Bad kinrath attack?" Jordo asked.

"Nothing like that," the other man said. "Some Twi'lek schutta tried to cut Dex in half with a vibroblade. She didn't get very far, it's only a surface wound, but Dex has been whining since."

"Funny you should mention a Twi'lek," Jordo muttered. "What happened to the girl?"

"The Twi'lek, you mean?" the man said. "The damn Wookiees took possession of her. Speaking of which, send another patrol to the village, since we've been prematurely relieved of duty."

"Will do." Jordo looked up at me. "Well, you've found your student."

"Thank you so much," I said.

"For a face like yours?" Jordo replied. "No problem."

"I don't care if it was a problem for you or not." I stood up abruptly. "I need to contact my friends."

Jordo raised an eyebrow. "Don't let me stop you."

"I won't," I sniffed as I headed towards the exit.


	76. Chittering

Canderous:

I hated having to use kolto. An almost dizzying sensation as the pain slipped away. Granted, choking on your own bodily fluids wasn't exactly desired, but pain existed for a reason. A hard lesson, a warning. I could only imagine how many idiots would stuff their arms into a rancor's mouth if they couldn't feel its teeth shredding their flesh to ribbons.

The old man had been full of crap. Tachs were the predominant creature in the Shadowlands. I'd only be in trouble if I was afraid of an animal throwing its feces at me.

I tried to take a step and fell. Yeah, that leg was definitely broken. White hot lances of pain shot through me as I hit the ground. Honorless dogs! Kriffing whelps trying to play at being real men.

It was below me to have to kill a group of teenagers. But they were old enough to know what honor dictated. That I was stuck waiting for my healing implant to catch up with kolto only further pissed me off.

I pushed myself up against a tree, my repeating blaster against my chest. The blood in my mouth was my own and I spat it out contemptuously. They claimed they were rebuilding the clans, I'd rather see the clans dead and cold in place of those impertinent pups' making a mockery of everything we were.

The wildlife around me felt restless. The thought of succumbing to a kinrath after flaying those faceless bastards made me chuckle. I waited as patiently as I could while the kolto and my healing implant warred over which would knit my femur back together. A kinswoman would probably say it was a sign I was getting too old. I placed a cigarra to my lips. It had been ages since a clan mother kicked my ass.

A smoke was a good measure of time. Measure of experience. On a light day aboard the Ebon Hawk I would smoke five cigarras before lunch. It helped dull the urge to slaughter the horrifically lucky fools that I traveled with. Today, I had smoked eight. As the cigarra ash grew closer to my fingers, I gave a sidelong glance to the corpse pile in front of me.

They had called themselves Fetts. Had I still been eighteen, I would have given anything to fight beside a Fett. To think that their clan name was used so loosely now was sickening. Since there was no honor in our encounter, there was no need to prepare a funeral pyre. Their bodies would be left to rot, their heads guarding the perimeter.

I chucked my cigarra butt and tested my leg. Still sore, still healing, I could afford to walk on it. I limped on towards the barrier Czerka had erected. The old man claimed he was the only one that knew the codes. Bantha spit. Doors opened for you and if they didn't, you broke them down.

The corpses had a variety of mines and grenades. Cowards' tinker toys. I littered mines, far too close to each other, along the archway. Covered with mines, I found shelter and activated an energy field. Then I chucked a grenade at the structure.

There's something carnal, beautiful about gratuitous destruction. From the idiot tach that was struck by flying debris to the scorched earth that remained after the archway was decimated.

The ground was hot as I trampled back over. No use in returning to Rian Vega's party; it was stupidity to take up arms when you couldn't fight effectively for another few hours.

The explosion seemed to have scared most of the wildlife away for the moment. I hurried as fast as I could, dragging my injured leg behind me. I wanted to be gone when the scavengers decided it was safe to pick apart the tach remains.

The Shadowlands had twisted, dense foliage. I could understand why those nameless chose the area to hunt. There was something dark about the very soil. The creatures teemed with a rage worthy of defeating. What they thought to accomplish by stealthing the Wookiee population was beyond me. Yes, they were powerful warriors, but how could one experience that by sneaking up and gutting an unarmed Wookiee?

They had wanted a cheap excuse, a claim to honor for clan leadership. Instead, they found me.

Their leader was quick to send all of his lackeys to their deaths. So I killed him first. Blasted him twice and when his energy shield failed, skewered him with a vibrosword. The big one was next. Thought because I had more than thirty years on him I'd be out of shape, thought because I was half his width I'd be weak. Fool. With bits of his skull dotting my neck, I took on one after the other. Bathed my hands in their blood, felt them die, cleansed our clans.

The Wookiee chieftain's hound was where we had left him. Faithfully simpering at the lift that led from the Shadowlands to the branches above.

I sat down on the lowered ramp and swung my legs over into it. The Wookiee guarding the contraption sniffed at me. It grinned savagely and barked something.

"No conversation," I said. "Just take me out of the Shadowlands."

The Wookiee's smile died and it growled. I wasn't in the mood. If the situation had been different, I would have killed it, but Rian and her group needed it to guard the platform while they did whatever they needed to do.

The ride up from the Shadowlands was quiet. If I so much as shifted, the Wookiee bared its teeth at me. I would have to start studying their language. I offered a brisk nod as I left the platform for the twisting ramp way. The Wookiee snorted and began its descent back into the Shadowlands.

The Jedi were supposed to know something about healing. I wondered if Bastila would try to heal me or tell me my injuries were my own damn fault. Wasn't necessary, I just needed time.

I was being shadowed as I walked towards Czerka's main gate. So I stopped. Czerka didn't hire trash talented enough to be that subtle. I pulled a cigarra out of my case, deliberately slow. That's when I heard the high-pitched chittering. I could have laughed.

The irony of making it out of the Shadowlands in one piece only to be attacked by a group of kinrath was not lost on me. My injured leg gave out when I tried to move quickly. Used my repeating blaster from afar until they came within striking distance. Unsheathed my vibrosword, thumbed the power cell on. I counted seventeen, but they were mindless creatures. No less deadly, but instinct made them predictable.

"Smelled blood, did you?"

The insects shrieked and surrounded me. Typical. Hack off any pincer that came too close, aim for the softer underbelly. Sacrificed a gouge across the calf in favor of not being impaled, spun around to protect my back. Mindless in their assault, I was just cutting down rows of creatures lining up for me. But there were too many and it was inevitable that one was able to stab into me, just above the knee. I hadn't anticipated it to be a viper kinrath. I made a quick butchery of the creatures and tried to force my breathing to a controlled pace when I had finished.

Felt the venom burn through my wound and I fumbled for my hunting knife. I'd slash the wound, bleed the poison out. That's when I remembered I gave my kriffing knife to the kriffing blue girl. Frack. Had to get back to the ship.

Stumbled up the ramp. Numbness was rapidly crawling up my leg. And to think I was pissed when I broke it. Viper kinrath used neurotoxins, certainly looked better than a hemotoxin, but now I had to get to a med bay before my lungs decided to stop working.

Forced a steady pace as I headed through Czerka's main gate. Despite the obvious gaping hole in my thigh, some of the bastards chuckled about too much booze. I had more pressing issues than gutting some soft handed Czerka minions. Up the ramp, things were starting to feel sluggish. Worthless, kriffing implant.

Made it to the Ebon Hawk's docking ramp before I fell over. Wanted a smoke. Punched the metal ramp, if I could get the attention of the Jedi dame or maybe that damn droid...

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Shrieks and big brown eyes. "No, no, no!" Fell into jibberish.

A naked kid? That was what I got to see before I died? Kriffing frack.


	77. Peace

**Author's Note**: I give up on formatting on this site.

Rian:

Never had I ever considered myself to be the tallest of humanoids to live, but damn if I didn't feel small being lifted off the ground by my neck by a very pissed off Wookiee.

Carth had both his blasters out, pointed at Freyyr's skull. If it was just Carth, I suppose I'd have felt a bit more at ease, but Juhani gripped her lightsaber and even the old man, Bindo, who was supposed to be friend's with the crazy Wookiee, wore a frown. Just lovely.

I tried to say, "Let go, damn it!" but with a monstrous furry fist closing on my windpipe it came out more like a muffled, wheezing squeak. I'm sure Freyyr found it to be _very_ intimidating.

"Calm yourself, Freyyr," Bindo called out. "We are friends. Don't you remember me?"

"After years in the Shadowlands, I remember only that outsiders are not to be trusted!" Freyyr roared. "I'll see you dead!"

"Well," Bindo sighed. "This may prove difficult."

Difficult? You think, old man? Black dots marred my vision, felt claws rake my throat. Oh no, that was just dandy, I'd just stay there dangling, the plaything of a psychotic Wookiee. I didn't need to do anything important like breathe. Thanks.

"Rian, stay still," Carth said. "I'm going to take him down."

I gave Carth a thumbs up, well, it was supposed to be a thumb. In my oxygen deprived confusion, I may have flipped a wrong finger.

"He's a friend," Bindo insisted.

"And Rian's not?" Carth demanded.

"I never said that," the old Jedi huffed. "Keep your pants on."

Bindo reached out a hand and his eyes fell shut. Freyyr's grip on my neck loosened and I was unceremoniously dumped on the ground. I began to desperately suck air into my lungs.

"Take my head, Czerka filth," Freyyr growled. The old man must have trapped the Wookiee in some sort of Force Stasis field. "You won't get another chance, so swears Freyyr of Kashyyyk."

"I wasn't here to kill you," I wheezed from the ground. "Bantha ass. Just listen."

"The words of outsiders are tainted with lies," Freyyr snarled. "You can't convince me otherwise."

I flopped onto my back. "Do you know Zaalbar and Chuundar?"

"What?" Freyyr barked. "Those are my sons. Why do you speak their names? Tell me!"

"Anyone mind translating?" Carth asked. "Do I need to start shooting or are we okay now?"

Juhani shook her head and placed a hand on Carth's arm.

"My name's Rian Vega." I swallowed enough air to feel comfortable with standing up. "I came to Kashyyyk with Zaalbar."

The Wookiee sighed. His fur was gray around his mouth. "To my shame, Zaalbar was exiled and enslaved. Do you dare claim to be my son's owner, outsider?"

I glowered at Bindo. "Are all Wookiees obstinate bastards like this?"

"Most are." Bindo chuckled.

I turned back to Freyyr. "No, he follows because of a life-debt."

"Does he," the old wook snorted. "Then I will listen, cautiously. Gullibility has harmed me in the past."

"Why would Chuundar want you dead?" I asked.

Freyyr frowned. "Well, if Zaalbar is back, perhaps Chuundar is worried the people will realize things are not as they seem," he said. "Chuundar has established himself as a leader that succeeded despite the _tragedies_ that have plagued his family. If it was shown that he conspired with the slavers, his honor would be gone."

"And how do we arrange that?" I stepped away from the Wookiee, closer to Carth and Juhani.

"With this." Freyyr unsheathed a vibroblade.

"We dice Chuundar to pieces?" I asked.

"Freyyr! Where did you find that?" Bindo asked.

"I didn't find it," Freyyr said. "All rightful chieftains possess Bacca's blade."

"Okay, if you think a rusty vibroblade's going to help us, I'd appreciate it if you'd share your logic with the rest of us." I crossed my arms.

"Hermit." Freyyr bared his teeth. "This is a friend of yours?"

"Peace, Freyyr," Bindo said. "She's a good kid, but she had an accident recently, the fall addled her brains."

I rolled my eyes.

"There is a legend of a great warrior from the old times," Freyyr said. He shot me a pointed look. "Bacca was his name and he is greatly revered. Bacca found a crashed starship, our first hint of life elsewhere. He was a cautious old wook and feared the taint of invaders. He constructed a vibroblade from the wreckage. It has long symbolized our independence. Only destined leaders have held it."

"Well, you must be destined, then," I said.

"Rian, please." Juhani placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm fine." I brushed her hand aside. "You ready to take your village back, Freyyr?"

"It has been too long," the Wookiee murmured. "Yes. I am ready."

"I suppose we should get this over with, then," Bindo muttered.

"Wait, we're taking on an entire Wookiee village?" Carth asked.

"You really need to learn Shyriiwook." I winked. "It'll be fine. Trust me."

Carth didn't buy it, but he reached for his blasters instead of arguing, so I didn't think too much on it. Didn't have the time to. We were already heading out of the Shadowlands.

The Wookiee waiting for us at the base of the rising platform lunged at us as soon as he caught sight of Freyyr. "You should have followed the will of Chuundar!" he roared. "Now you will face his wrath!"

I thumbed my lightsaber, only to have Freyyr snarl.

"This is my honor, human."

I shot a look to Bindo, he just shook his head.

"Put it out, lass," he said.

"I'm just trying to help," I said.

"No you're not," Bindo replied.

"You don't know me." I extinguished my lightsaber.

"Now's not the time for this conversation, child." Splatters of Wookiee blood slapped Bindo across his cheek and temple. He dabbed it off with the hem of his tattered robe. "Does anyone know how to work the platform or do I have to do everything myself?"

The Wookiee village was in chaos when we arrived. Primal shrieks laced the air dotted with burning embers and ash. A knot formed in my gut as the old Wookiee, Freyyr, hastened his pace.

The chieftain was quick in his work. The guards that refused him as the true leader were cut down with the relic that Freyyr's followers would kiss in fealty.

The heart of the conflict was Chuundar's hut. Engulfed in flames, the Wookiees surrounding the hut seemed content to let it burn. I broke into a full sprint, my knuckles turning white around the hilt of my lightsaber.

Juhani slipped in beside me and placed a hand over my lightsaber. "That's only if no other option presents itself."

"That's if Zaalbar's dead," I replied.

Juhani frowned, but dropped her hand.

Dead center of the mob, I caught sight of him huddled in a ball on his knees. Between his matted fur, there were glimpses of a small, blue body.

"Zaalbar!" I called out.

Zaalbar glanced over at a blood soaked hunting knife just out of his reach and shook his head. "You should not have come here, Rian Vega."

"The madclaw has killed our chieftain!" A Wookiee exclaimed.

"How can that be, when I still live?" Freyyr stepped forward.

"The crazy wook from the Shadowlands!"

Great, a hushed skepticism. For once, everyone shared similarly anxious expressions. Except for Bindo. The old man ruined it by looking amused.

"I was crazy for believing Chuundar's lies, yes," Freyyr admitted. "But I am your true chieftain." With a flourish, he unsheathed the relic.

"Bacca's blade."

A quiet murmuring awe. It started with one Wookiee falling to his knees and continued until the majority were bowing to their new chieftain. The few that were unconvinced, left quietly.

"Zaalbar, are you alright?" I asked.

He ignored me.

"Zaalbar," Freyyr began.

"She's hurt," Zaalbar said abruptly. He allowed Carth to scoop Mission out of his arms.

"I'm sorry," Freyyr said.

"For what?" Zaalbar asked. His eyes lingered listlessly on the knife.

"For everything," Freyyr replied. "You were right, I should have listened, but… Well, I want you to know that I'm proud of you."

"Save it," Zaalbar said. "I am a madclaw. I proved that fact twenty years ago, I proved it again today."

"Zaalbar, I'm trying to make peace with you."

"Make peace for the village." Zaalbar bared his fangs. They looked almost pink under a film of blood. He turned to face me. "We should go."

"Kashyyyk is your home and you will be welcomed as a hero if you choose to return," Freyyr said.

Zaalbar snorted. "Don't delude yourself, Father."

"Zaalbar." I reached for his shoulder.

"Do not touch me, _human,_" Zaalbar barked.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

"I never wanted to come in the first place," Zaalbar replied.


	78. Sandwiches

Bastila:

His breathing, while still sluggish, had returned to a consistent pace and his skin wasn't as sallow as it had been. I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.

In truth, I wished that Canderous Ordo would leave this mission as soon as he opened his eyes, but with crew members currently missing, I preferred the ones returned to be in one piece.

Sasha whimpered and nuzzled her face into his belly. I had learned to ignore her bared teeth every time I needed to check the Mandalorian's condition, but her refusal to wear the clothing I had provided her with still unsettled me.

When I did a quick check of his pulse at his throat, Canderous' hand shot up and crushed around my wrist. Sasha screamed and huddled by his shoulder.

Those pale gray eyes lazed open and he released me with a snort. "It's you."

"I see that a near death experience hasn't changed you in the least," I sniffed as I rubbed the spot on my wrist where his hand had been. "How do you feel?"

"Like I almost died." There was a rattling in his lungs as he laughed. "What happened?""Your lungs shut down," I explained. "So I meditated to create a web of healing energy with the Force."

Canderous raised an eyebrow.

"And I admit, several medpacs also helped." I crossed my arms.

He coughed. "How long was I out?"

"A little over two hours," I said. "Standard time."

Canderous nodded and forced himself up to a half sitting position. Sasha scrambled onto his lap. The child regarded him with large unblinking eyes before she turned to me and growled.

He glanced at her and snorted. "What's she still doing here?"

"Sasha was the one that found you." I raised an eyebrow. "She hasn't left your side since I brought you into the medbay."

Canderous looked at the naked child and Sasha stared back silently.

"I wanted to talk to you about her," I said. "She has a mark on her leg that I can't identify. But it was placed there intentionally. Given her attachment to you, perhaps you would know something about it?"

He lifted her leg up and examined it for a moment before he swore. Sasha sat, docile, through it all. "Clan Fett," Canderous said. "Their mark."

"You Mandalorians mark up children?" I asked.

Canderous shook his head. "This is clan business, Jedi."

I sniffed. "So I should leave it to you, Ordo, clan of one."

Sasha made an entirely inhuman sound as the Mandalorian narrowed his eyes. "Generations ago, slaves taken during war raids were marked as property," he said. "The practice was done away with before your Mandalorian Wars. That's all you need to know."

"Generations ago, yet a child carries a Fett brand," I replied.

"I dealt with those honorless dogs," he growled.

"And that's why you nearly died?"

Canderous rolled over so that his back faced me. Sasha was unceremoniously dumped onto the edge of the bed. She giggled.

"Canderous," I began.

"Leave," he grunted. "Now."

"Well I–" I was attempting to take my frustrations out on a wounded man and it was preposterous. "Very well."

I left the medical bay as swiftly as I could without running. I needed to wash up, scour the blood and grime from my hands. I needed to collect myself.

The anger so prevalent from Rian tapered off. Exhaustion replaced rage, a spike of worry drowned out the underlying irritation.

I didn't like not knowing.

In the refresher, I turned the sink's water on hot and scrubbed away at my arms and hands until they were pink. The small room gave a semblance of privacy, where I could feel like I was free to take a spare moment and simply breathe.

Concern propelled me to reach out, through the bond that Rian and I shared. Since our bond first surfaced, I had attempted to grant the other woman as much solitude in her own mind as I could, so non-verbal communication had not come up. But she had been gone for far too long and it was time to swallow my pride.

_Rian? Can you hear me?_

For my efforts, I was rewarded with a string of incoherent obscenities. Something about a grandfather swam to the fore, completely irrational, like a serpent eating its own tail. Focused and unguarded as I was, the waves of confusion so foreign to my own were disorienting.

Then Sasha began to scream. And things began to fall into place.

The medical bay was crowded beyond its allotted capacity, with Carth pacing just outside the door.

"What the hell?" Rian bellowed from within.

Sasha screamed again.

"Get him out of the cot," Rian commanded. Her voice was cold, but anxiety rolled through the bond. "And find a babysitter for the kid. We'll deal with her later."

"Rian, please." I slipped past Carth and into the medical bay. "Canderous was just recently injured."

"Right now, I don't care if his intestines fall out when he rolls over," she snapped. "He abandoned the group for his own little glory quest, so as far as I'm concerned, he got what he deserved. We need the cot. Get him out."

"What?"

Zaalbar moaned something and I caught sight of the body in his arms.

"I see," I murmured. "I'll need some help moving him, then."

An unfamiliar old man placed a hand on my shoulder. Interesting that Rian seemed to pick up stragglers on every planet we had been to, so far. "He's a Mandalorian, lass. Don't coddle him or he'll get cranky. And believe me, cranky Mandalorians are the worst kind of sulkers I've ever seen."

For a brief moment I felt an enormous Force presence within the man that was gone almost as soon as I had sensed it. I nodded. "Of course, Master Jedi."

The old man snorted. "Oh, save it. All the yammering in the galaxy won't help this child."

Juhani reached for Canderous' arm to steady him as he forced himself off the cot. Sasha snarled. The Cathar woman chuckled softly before she turned to the child, bared her pointed teeth and growled right back.

Sasha's eyes grew wide and she regarded Juhani with a newfound respect. Had I known it was that easy earlier, I could have been saved a headache. Perhaps Juhani would be able to convince the young girl that clothing wasn't evil.

Canderous shoved Juhani away and stumbled out of the medical bay on his own. Sasha followed closely at his heels. A dark expression was on Rian's face as her eyes followed the movements of the old man as he rummaged through our medical supplies.

He glanced at the remaining crew members and scowled. "You." He pointed at Rian. "Out." His finger moved on to Zaalbar, Juhani and Carth. "You, you and you. Out. It's too cramped in here. Let me work in peace."

Carth frowned. "Jolee Bindo. Will she be alright?"

Jolee Bindo's brows furrowed. "Possibly. If you let me work. Now shoo!"

"Bindo's got a point," Rian agreed. She examined Zaalbar's bowcaster as the Wookiee placed Mission on the cot. When his hands were freed, Rian tossed the weapon at him. "We've got other problems to deal with."

"Problems?" I asked.

Zaalbar barked something, too quick for me to decipher.

"Oh yeah," Rian said to Zaalbar. "We just disrupted this planet's hierarchy, my furry friend. You think Czerka's not going to squash Freyyr as soon as they find out?"

"We should act quickly," Juhani said. Her fingers grazed her lightsaber. "Snuff them out before they can retaliate."

Rian gave a grim smile. "Come on. Let's go kill shit."

As the others followed her out of the medical bay I took a few steps in her direction. "Rian, wait."

The old man, Jolee Bindo, clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Let them go."

"Can't you sense it?" I asked. "All the stress and emotional exhaustion emanating from her?"

"And what would you do about it, hmm?" He stabbed a syringe into Mission and tossed it into the hazardous waste trasher with a scowl. Blue light blossomed at his fingertips. "You don't want to wake up, do you, missy?" he muttered at the girl. "Well, too bad."

What would I have done? Pleaded with Rian to calm herself? Demanded that she stay on the ship? Effectively nothing, as the woman was immune to logic and incapable of listening.

"How can I help?" I placed a hand on Mission's forehead. She felt cold, but perhaps that was just normal for a Twi'lek.

"You need me to spell it out for you?" Master Bindo huffed. He placed a hand over mine and directed it towards Mission's chest. I could feel Force energy radiate from his fingertips and around my hand. "Get to work."

"Of course." I relaxed my control and allowed the older man to mold the raw Force energy that I provided. It wove into the healing light that he produced and sank into Mission's body.

There was a calming, almost meditative quality in healing Mission. The strange old man was a powerful anchor.

Mission's eyes finally half-opened. "Z?" she slurred. One groggy arm shifted outwards.

I caught it at the wrist and directed it back to the cot. "Mission? It's Bastila."

Mission blinked and squinted. She stared out confused, suspicious. "Where's Z?" Her words strung together and she tried again with sleepy sighs. "Zaal... Zaalbar. Where'zeeat?"

"Damn kids don't ever know what's good for them," Master Bindo snorted. "It's past your bedtime, little missy." He waved a hand. "Go back to sleep."

Mission's head fell back limp.

"Master Bindo–"

"Name's just Bindo," he said. "I don't need any of that 'Master' crap."

"Will Mission be alright?" I asked.

"Her?" Bindo's nostril's flared in the Twi'lek's direction. "Oh yeah. Sure, sure. The troublemakers tend to stick around. She is a troublemaker, isn't she?"

"That's certainly one way of putting it, yes," I replied.

"Well, then, what are you worried about." He placed a hand on my back and led me towards the door of the medical bay. "Let the child rest. Now, as for you. Can you make a sandwich as well as you heal sentients?"

"Beg pardon?"

"No sandwiches?" Bindo frowned. "I suppose I'll have to do something about that. You like nerf? I haven't had nerf in years. Just because tach meat looks similar doesn't mean they taste alike, blegh."

"Shouldn't we be trying to help Rian and the–"

"It's like tasting love between two slices of bread," he continued obliviously. "Now, the ingredients are key. You don't want to toss any old hunk of nerf on there like some sort of animal, no, only choice cuts. And the bread, you want it just right, crusty enough to have a bite, but definitely not stale. Mayo's good, but it's even better with my added secret ingredient, now telling you wouldn't be fair, since it's secret, but I suppose a hint wouldn't hurt..."

I took a deep breath. The Jedi Code would see me through this crisis. It would have to.


	79. Ancient History

Carth:

It didn't look like the Wookiees needed much help. On some level, I think it was always easier to fight in a ship, because you didn't have to see the enemy's face. The degree of intimacy it took for a person to slice through another with a vibrosword was harrowing.

Shooting them with my blaster didn't make them any less dead, I just didn't have to look them in the eyes when I did it.

To listen to the Wookiees' shrieks and battle cries was an experience. To hear that, on top of watching the flash of Rian and Juhani's lightsabers almost made me want to head back to the Hawk and pour myself a drink. What was one man compared to Jedi and an enraged village worth of Wookiees? I was just thankful they were on my side.

I ran down the wooden platform after the Jedi and threw my body into the railing, behind a supply cannister for cover. The sting of splinters in my hand was a distraction from the potential death a few meters away.

It was bizarre. I hoped Mission was okay, but there were more important things to concentrate on for the moment. Like being thankful that both the power cells to my blasters were fully charged.

The precarious dodging of blasterfire was expected, but I'll admit, ducking under a body tossed screaming over the railing was something new.

To humans in Czerka, the Wookiees probably began to blur into each other, so I stayed in the back to provide cover for the more obvious targets like Rian and Juhani. I managed to take out three before Czerka realized there was a blaster on the enemy side. Of course, maybe they were just more focused on the light show exploding out of Rian. Jedi weren't supposed to do that, were they? I never heard about a Jedi turning into a walking power conduit complete with sparks flying. It made my guts knot.

Juhani's movements seemed stiff as she kept one eye on Rian. It didn't do much for my mood. After the Cathar pulled me aside in the Shadowlands to whisper, "If you treat a child like a child, she will behave like a child," I couldn't decide whether I was relieved that another person, a Jedi no less, agreed with me or if the fact that it was a Jedi admitting the faults of another Jedi meant something horrific.

I'd have to talk to Rian later. Well, I'd try to talk. Talking seemed to inexplicably turn into a screaming match with that woman. At any rate, if I didn't get killed by Czerka and if she didn't decide to become reigning Sith Lord of Kashyyyk, I would try to talk to her.

The outside of the Czerka compound was trashed. Supply canisters were looted, garbage bins were overturned and sirens blared in my ears. Rian seemed hellbent on taking out all the scattered guards outside of the compound, so she either didn't see or ignored the blasterfire coming from within.

The sharp shooter from inside the compound took out two Wookiees and then cast his aim for Juhani. The Jedi woman managed to deflect the blaster shots with her lightsaber before she moved on after Rian. Leaving even one armed man inside the Czerka Headquarters was one loose end that I didn't want to risk. I crept inside and salvaged any shred of protection I could find.

Crouched behind what little cover a footlocker and a dead Ithorian could provide, I pointed my blasters at the desk and waited. I think I held my breath for the silence of it, but my heart pounded in my ears to spite me. It took a small eternity to catch the change in shadows, a quick flash of body armor to know that the sniper was moving. I fired.

"Son of a bitch!"

Something about the way the other man stressed his vowels startled me. A Telosian accent. The list of slurs he rattled off about my mother was also unsettling in its familiarity.

I swallowed. "Jordo?"

"Huh?" The other man coughed. "Please tell me you're here for the Wookiees and not because of my ex-wife."

"It's me, Jordo," I called out. "Carth."

"Onasi?" Jordo laughed. "You phoqing shot me, murglak. One hell of a reunion."

"Yeah, I guess I did." I raked a hand through my hair as I crept forward. "I didn't get you too bad, I hope. What are you doing with Czerka?"

"A job's a job," Jordo replied. "Not the best work, as I'm sure you can see, but the paycheck's steady."

I rounded the desk and found Jordo sprawled out on his back. The Jordo I remembered had more hair, but that had also been six years ago. "A little dangerous?" I asked.

"Aside from the occasional blaster shot to the back, it's mostly paper pushing," Jordo said. "You mind checking to see if I'm going to die, pal?"

"Yeah, sure." I rolled him over and winced when Jordo hissed.

The armor plating had melted away where the blaster bolt had hit. The skin beneath was red and peeling, but nothing serious. "You've got some good armor, Phenn," I murmured.

Jordo chuckled. "That or your aim's not as good as you'd like to think."

"You want me to shoot you again just to be certain?"

"Well, since you asked," Jordo snorted. "No."

"So, ex-wife," I said. I pulled out a medpac from the sack on my hip and stabbed it into his arm. "I thought you and Amina were stuck with each other forever."

Jordo sucked in a deep breath as the kolto worked its magic. "No. I didn't mean Amina. She was on Telos, when, you know."

"Oh." I cleared my throat. "No. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

Jordo shrugged. "It's alright. I heard about Morgana–"

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"Thanks."

It was too quiet. Outside, it sounded like the firefight was dying down. Jordo tapped the ground impatiently. "No, Astraal's the ex-wife."

"Astraal?" I tried not to laugh. "No offense, Jordo, but that kind of sounds like a stripper's name."

"Yeah, believe me, she looked it, too." Jordo smirked. "That's why we hooked up in the first place. But that's ancient history, unless someone comes around with a stun stick screaming about alimony."

"Ouch," I said.

"Tell me about it," he replied. "But enough about that. You don't happen to have a ride off planet since this place decided to become a war zone?"

"Yeah, back at the docks," I said. "I think we're headed to Tatooine or Korriban or something. I'm not really sure."

"Oh?" Jordo stood up and brushed himself off. "You going to see your boy?"

I felt too warm. Heat pounded at my throat and face. I think my hands tried to smooth down the flap to the sack on my hip, but were too busy shaking to accomplish anything. "What?"

"You didn't know?" Jordo blinked. "Dustil's on Korriban."


End file.
